


From The Darkness We Come

by My_Trex_has_fleas



Category: Poldark - All Media Types, Return to Treasure Island (TV 1996)
Genre: 1800s, Animalism, Blood and Gore, Colonialism, Dark Magic, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Explosions, Intrigue, London, M/M, Mayhem, Murder, Political Alliances, Prostitution, Slow Burn, Taboo AU, Theatre, Violence, mentions of child prostitution
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-26
Updated: 2017-06-03
Packaged: 2018-10-11 02:48:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 30
Words: 138,793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10453272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/My_Trex_has_fleas/pseuds/My_Trex_has_fleas
Summary: Ross Poldark returns from the dead. His appearance kicks off an unusual sequence of events that are by turns bloody and murderous. Things are only complicated by the appearance of a young man who is not what he appears to be.This one has all the warnings, folks :) Take care.





	1. The Prodigal Son Returns

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Miss_Gemmie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miss_Gemmie/gifts).



The fog lay thick over the river and curling along the bank and up onto the shingled shoreline. The ship at anchor was called the _Arabella_ and she had dropped her line only the night before. Now with the first wisps of anaemic light starting to filter through, her single paying passenger was making his way ashore.

He stood tall in the bow of the rowboat that was conveying him to his destination. They were some way from London proper. The _Arabella_ did not always conduct herself in legal business and preferred to not draw attention to her presence. It was one of the reasons her passenger had chosen her as his preferred transport.

The rowboat struck ground and the man hopped off into the muddy water that lapped at his boots. He waded ashore and did not look back as the lighter began its return journey to the ship. Instead he strode forward through the water to come out onto the bank.

There was a feeble light just ahead. The man made for it and found someone waiting for him. His attendant was short and bald and held the reins to a magnificent black mare with a broad white stripe down her face. The mare nickered when she spotted the man and her ears pricked up.

‘She still knows you.’ the bald man said and the other snorted even as he raised a hand to stroke the mare’s face.

‘She is a faithful bitch.’ he murmured and then yanked his hand back as the mare attempted to bite his fingers. ‘Her temper seems to not have improved any.’

‘Aye.’ The bald man handed over the reins and stepped back as the man mounted up and settled in the saddle. There was a movement and a coin of significant denomination tumbled through the air and into the bald man’s waiting hand.

There were no more words passed and the man applied his heels to the mare’s flanks and she took off into the fog.

*********

Elizabeth Poldark sat and stared at her folded hands. She heard the doctor overhead, his footsteps loud in the silent house. Across from her, her husband sat and sipped at the glass of brandy he was drinking, in spite of the fact that it was barely nine in the morning. His pale blue eyes were boring into her and she shifted minutely to relieve the ache in her back. It was difficult being pregnant. She had not been prepared for the sheer physical exhaustion it brought her, even if her husband’s glee at the size of the impending infant made him considerably easier to live with.

It was a few more moments and the doctor appeared in his crow’s black. He nodded to Elizabeth and then addressed Francis.

‘He’s been gone some time.’ he said. ‘He is cold. I would say during the night.’ He gave them both a thin lipped smile. ‘My condolences for your loss.’

Elizabeth said nothing. The loss of her step-father was not to her mind a cause for sadness. Joshua Poldark had not been a kind or easy man to live with and his madness in the last years of his life had been a trial worthy of a martyr.

‘He’s quite dead then?’ Francis was curt and she could see the displeasure etch itself into the doctor’s face.

‘Quite dead.’ he replied in kind and then nodded to Elizabeth. ‘Madam.’ He said nothing else, simply turned and left the room.

Elizabeth smoothed her hands over her dressing gown. She was well used to the Poldark temper, having endured it since she was but ten years old and brought to live in Joshua Poldark’s house when her mother became his second bride. They had been older, a widower and widow respectively. In doing so, she had gained a step-brother and two step-cousins. All of them had the same temper, even the girl Verity.

‘Shall you call for the funeral home?’ she asked, her head still down and her voice soft. Francis was not a kind man in a temper and she knew better than to provoke him. She could see that he was in a foul mood by the twitch of muscles in his jaw.

Francis did not answer her. Instead he got up and stalked through from the parlour and disappeared from her sight.

**********

Cary Warleggan looked up. His under-secretary, a tall thin young man named Unwin Trevaunance, was hovering at the door of the office with a look of trepidation on his narrow face.

Warleggan ignored him. He despised weakness in all its forms and yet he had no choice but to surround himself with it. The East India Company was not a place for rivalry. It proved far too dangerous.

Eventually he put down the document he was reading and beckoned Unwin forward and watched the man scuttle towards him on his skinny shanks. He reminded Warleggan of one of those grey spiders that lurked in the corners of the ceiling.

‘What is it, Unwin?’ He didn’t bother keeping the annoyance out of his voice.

‘Sir.’ Unwin was almost trembling. ‘Joshua Poldark, sir.’

‘Well, what of him?’ Warleggan affected a weary tone. ‘What’s the mad old bastard done now?’

‘Died, sir.’ Unwin replied.

That made Warleggan lift his head and give Unwin a long hard stare.

‘Get my son.’ he ordered. ‘Now.’

Unwin nodded and nearly tripped over himself in his rush to get away. Warleggan watched him go and then chuckled as he leaned over his desk and poured himself a brandy. He held up the glass as if to toast.

‘Here’s to you Joshua Poldark.’ he declared. ‘You mad fucker.’

********

The sound of a horse’s hoof beats broke the silence and the mare cantered at an easy pace over the sodden ground. Her rider was still bundled in his oil skin, hood over his face to keep off the rain.

They came over a piece of rough ground that bordered on a wood and the rider pulled the mare to a walk. She shook her head, bridle rattling, and he drew her to a stop before sliding off her back. Mud coated his boots as he walked through the mire and he eventually drew to a stop, scuffing the ground with his boot. Behind him , the mare whinnied and the man looked at her over his shoulder. There was the shadow of a sharp smile and a glint of dark eyes, and then he turned back.

‘You’ll hold your tongue.’ He knelt down in the mud. ‘Or it’s the knacker’s for you, my girl.’

He scraped at the dirt, plunging his fingers into the mud and started digging in earnest. He tore away great gobbets of mud with both hands until there seemed to be a natural cave in and a hole appeared. The man got down on his belly, shoving his arm in to the shoulder like a man trying to birth a calf. He eventually came up with a leather bag, treated to be waterproof, and untied the thong that held it closed.

The contents gleamed in his gloved palm only briefly before they were secreted in a pocket of his waistcoat and he retied the bag and replaced it in its hiding place, making sure to tamp the dirt down back over it. He was filthy when he got to his feet and the mare shied from him as he approached. The man chuckled as he caught her rains and moved to retake his seat atop her back.

Then he turned her head, kicked her into a canter and headed back the way he’d come.

**********

George Warleggan sat in his father’s boardroom and listened to the men around the table discuss the death of Joshua Poldark. He was not particularly interested in what the old farts had to say on the matter, being only interested in the fact that the death of his father’s nemesis meant that they could now start moving on with his plans.

‘And you are sure he will sign?’ This was from a whiskery old soak called Whitelegg.

‘I am sure.’ His father was supremely confident and George regarded him. ‘We have been in negotiations with that weak-kneed dullard that calls himself Poldark’s nephew for months. While he has no direct claim on the inheritance left behind, we have it on good authority that Joshua left everything to his step-daughter Elizabeth and as Francis Poldark’s wife, all that is hers belongs to him.’

‘A good plan, I’m sure.’ Whitelegg replied. ‘But will he sign?’

‘He will.’ Warleggan look across at George and the gleam in his eye was conspiratorial. ‘We have him by the balls. Francis Poldark is particularly fond of the gaming tables in Pall Mall and is up to his eyes in debt. He is at the point where he is about to lose everything and we have offered him enough money to clear his debts and spend the rest of his days idling them away as he best loves to do.’

George smiled. It was a perfect scheme and he had had no small part in it. He had been the one to introduce Francis to the gambling houses in the city, taking him on debauched nights that ended in Francis losing his shirt, drunk and installed between the legs of one of the many whores that plied their trade in that neighbourhood.

George had another reason for wanting this deal to go through. He had plans, plans his father knew nothing about and which involved the dark-eyed beauty that was Francis’ wife Elizabeth. George had coveted her since the very first time they had met. She was a fine elegant creature and deserved better than the lout she was saddled with.

He had plans to get rid of the aforementioned lout and take his place at her side. She would make a splendid wife.

*********

The mortuary assistant had done the heavy part of the job and was now busy with the washing. Thankfully the old man had not shat himself when he died, as so many did. Instead he was almost strangely clean, his skin as thin as tissue paper in places and his fine grey hair soft as a baby’s.

The assistant wiped him down with a weak solution of lime and then dried him off. There were two coins, pennies left by the miser of a nephew that had come to instruct them in their business, and the assistant laid them over the old man’s eyes. He noted the faded black marks on the man’s left arm with interest, but he knew that Joshua Poldark had been an explorer in his younger days and it was not as strange a souvenir as some.

He got done with his job and moved to dry his hands, starting when the door to the mortuary was slammed open. He stared at the tall figure in the door, water streaming from his cloak and hood. He raised a pair of gloved hands and pushed the hood back from his face and the assistant saw a pale face with a livid scar running from mouth to eyebrow on the left side.

The man had fine features, a near perfect match to those of the man on the table in front of him. His thick hair was near black and longer than was fashionable. It hung in dark ringlets about his face, his countenance stern and his dark eyes burning with a ferocity that quite unnerved the assistant. He took a step back as the man strode forward. He was angular and long limbed, his very person radiating energy and a barely controlled temper.

He stopped at the cooling slab and regarded the dead man carefully.

‘How did he die?’ His voice was deep.

‘In the night, I believe.’ The assistant swallowed nervously. ‘He was old and infirm.’ He twisted the cloth he was holding in his hands. ‘I believe it was not unexpected.’

‘Hmmmm.’ The man’s eyes narrowed. ‘Old perhaps. Infirm. Well that’s quite another matter, is it not?’ He turned those penetrating eyes on the assistant. ‘Where are the shillings?’

‘I am afraid that is all that was left, sir.’ The assistant was now desperately wishing that the man would just leave. He watched the man tilt his head and lift one gloved hand. He placed it gently on the old man’s head.

‘You poor man.’ His voice was low. ‘They could have at least done that.’ Then he leaned forward to whisper in the corpse’s ear and the assistant frowned. This was by far one of the strangest visits he’d ever had.

‘You would be welcome to make up the difference.’ he ventured and the man straightened up and snorted.

‘Not likely.’ His voice was like ice. ‘I hated the fucking bastard.’

With that he turned and strode from the room, leaving the assistant more confused than he’d been before.

**********

Elizabeth moved through the house. The servants had done their duty and every mirror was now covered and the clocks stopped. It made the atmosphere even more melancholy and she stopped to look out the front window.

It was still raining heavily, but the worst of the fog had cleared and she frowned as she spied a tall dark figure standing in the street beyond the fencing.

Elizabeth felt a sick feeling in her stomach, quite different from her usual nausea that her unborn child insisted on inflicting upon her. She could not help but recognise the way the man held himself and it made her heart feel like it was being squeezed in a cruel grip.

She moved to pull the bell cord and it was not long before the footman appeared.

‘Madam?’ He looked at her enquiringly.

‘Out there.’ She gestured at the window. ‘There is a man lurking. Go see what he wants.’

‘Of course, madam.’ The footman nodded and left the room and Elizabeth heard the door open. Even as it did though, the figure moved away and was gone from sight before the boy could even reach the fence.

Elizabeth raised one hand to her heart, clutching her robe and feeling quite faint.

A noise behind her made her whirl around to see Francis standing there with a quizzical look on his face.

‘What is it?’ he demanded and Elizabeth found herself wanting to laugh hysterically. Instead she turned back to the window.

‘A ghost.’ she replied.

***********

The house stood across the road from the river. It had a proud but faded look to its façade, a result of neglect and lack of upkeep.

The man stopped and looked at the place he’d grown up in. He’d left the mare at the stables down the street and walked along the way that his governess had once used to walk him when he was a child, through the park and now coming to the front of the house. Like others in the street, it was red brick with an iron railing. The front garden was wildly overgrown.

He opened the gate and walked through the driving rain to the front door. A hand disappeared inside his coat and came back out with a key that he inserted into the lock, then opened the door and stepped inside.

It was dark in the front hall, not a sound of anyone living or dead to welcome him. He moved equally soundlessly through to the room on his left and went in, noting the worn furniture and the long scrubbed table at the back. There was a low fire in the grate, made with the minimum of fuel.

The man drew his hood back once again and walked to the fireplace, looking at the portrait that hung above it. He took in the proud face and dark eyes so like his own.

‘Well, Father.’ he declared. ‘The prodigal son has returned.’

A sound caught his attention and he turned in time to see a man come through the doorway at the back with a fire iron held in his raised hand.

‘Who are you?’ he demanded, his accent almost impenetrable. ‘What are you doin’ in this ‘ouse? Begone or I will do for you!’

The man huffed a soft laugh and spread his arms wide.

‘Now Jud.’ he chided gently. ‘Is that any way to greet an old friend?’ His mouth quirked in a smile as he saw the look of utter bemusement that crossed the manservant’s face.

‘Well, I’ll be damned.’ Jud looked as if he’d seen a ghost. ‘Ross?’

‘The very same.’ Ross stepped forward. ‘Am I so very different, you did not recognise me?’

‘We thought you dead.’ Jud still looked suspicious. His shaggy blond hair was now more white than blond and he was whiskered and fatter than Ross recalled. ‘You’ve been gone five years.’

‘Aye.’ Ross pulled off his gloves and shoved them in a pocket, turning back to kneel and throw more wood on the fire. ‘But I am alive.’ He cast a brief glance over his shoulder. ‘I am also thirsty. Is there any brandy in this house?’

‘There is.’ Jud moved to retrieve a bottle from the table and poured out a glass which he brought over, standing and looking at Ross as if he expected him to grow two heads at any moment. ‘I can barely believe my own eyes, sir, beggin’ your pardon.’

‘Well, that’s understandable.’ Ross took the glass from him and drained half its contents. He looked around the room. ‘I must say that your standard of housekeeping leaves much to be desired.’

‘Prudie’s gone to ‘er mum’s.’ Jud grumbled as he went back to the table and started cleaning up some of the dishes. ‘She’s got consumption and isn’t thought to make the winter.’ His eyes were sharp when he looked at Ross. ‘An’ your cousin don’t ‘alf spend money. I barely have enough to feed meself, let alone do for cleanin’ or heatin’.’

‘That’s about to change.’ Ross drank the rest of the brandy and went to stand next to him, refilling his glass. ‘Now do you have anything to eat or must I call a boy to fetch us some food.’

‘You don’t bleedin’ listen.’ Jud shook his head. ‘Your father, rest ‘is soul, left nothin’ for you or this house or me.’

‘It’s a good thing then that I have my own fortune to rely on.’ Ross gave him a humourless smile. He dug a few coins from his pocket and handed them over. ‘Now go and get me something to eat and enough coke to make this damn room liveable. And more brandy, for God’s sake.’

Jud took the coins and stared at them as if they might burn his hand. Then he left the room without saying a word.

Ross watched him go and moved back to the fire, leaning against the mantle. He closed his eyes and drew a deep breath and when he opened them again, they were black.

‘I am home.’ he breathed.


	2. A Funeral and A Wake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Joshua Poldark is buried.

The funeral cortege made its way across the bridge and to the church. Joshua Poldark had been a man of limited means in his final years so it was not the usual display of pageantry that was expected. 

Elizabeth sat in the trap behind the black mare, her vision blurred by the water droplets caught in her veil. They had been provided for her to use in her delicate condition. The horse was a fine one and she was reminded of another black mare, a hellion that had been the property of her late step brother. He’d been the only one who could tame the beast, bending her to his will while never breaking her spirit. Elizabeth thought often of whether he would have treated her in the same fashion. 

Next to her, Francis was stiff and unsettled. His funerary black was damp from the fog and his mouth set in a downturned line. 

There were not many mourners accompanying them. Most were old friends on death’s door themselves, apart from Joshua’s lawyer, a sparely built man named Trelawney. They filed along behind the trap which was itself following the horse drawn hearse, its matched pair of black geldings bearing plumes between their pointed ears. 

The church was small stone building on the edge of the square. Their driver stopped the trap and Francis got up, getting out and walking off so it was left to Trelawney to come forward and assist Elizabeth in getting out herself. Normally she would not have left her confinement, but this was the man she’d come to call father even after her own mother had died. 

The church was dimly lit, only the feeble sunlight coming through the dusty windows and the tallow candles at the ends of each pew providing any illumination. She walked with Trelawney to the pew at the front as reserved for immediate family and took her seat. Francis she noticed was conversing with a man she did not recognise. As the other mourners filed in and took their seats he came back to sit next to her. 

The church was filled with a low dirge from the choristers at the front and Elizabeth kept her attention focused on them. Trelawney was behind them now and then leaned forward, his forehead creased as if he was troubled by something.

‘I am terribly sorry.’ His voice was low. ‘It has just occurred to me to enquire as to whether you have paid the gravediggers their extra coin? I do not wish to be indelicate but…’

‘For God’s sake man.’ Francis didn’t bother concealing his irritation. ‘What the hell do they need an extra coin for?’

‘To bury him at the appropriate depth, of course.’ Trelawney looked mildly scandalised. ‘There are resurrectionists at work and they must be considered.’

‘Hang the resurrectionists.’ Francis turned back with a snort of derision. ‘Joshua Poldark can rest at the regular depth.’

‘But if that is the case, then he will surely be taken.’ Trelawney’s voice never lost its even tone. ‘Two feet deeper would be better, I assure you.’

‘You assure me of nothing.’ Francis stared straight ahead. ‘Now kindly desist bothering my wife with these fancies.’

‘I promise you, sir, that these are no mere fancies.’ Trelawney’s voice now held an edge. He did sit back though, throwing an apologetic glance at Elizabeth. 

The sound of the doors being thrown open behind them caught Elizabeth’s attention. Trelawney turned to look and his shocked gasp made her turn all the way around. What she saw made her blood run cold. 

‘My God.’ Trelawney murmured. ‘We are visited by a ghost.’

Elizabeth could do nothing but stare. He was the same as when he’d left on that ship to go to seek his own path five years before. His face was more finely drawn, but the fierce dark brows and the eyes that matched were as familiar to her as an old song. His hair was still a mess of untamed curls, the near black set off by copper highlights. He wore black as was befitting the occasion, hat in hand as he strode down the aisle on those long legs of his. He wore a long coat that swirled out behind him and there was no neck cloth at his throat. 

‘No…’ Francis sounded horrified. ‘It cannot be…’

Behind them, the entire chapel was now whispering. Elizabeth whipped her head back around, hand going to her belly as nausea welled up inside her. 

‘Ross.’ The word came unbidden to her lips and as if he heard her, Ross stopped in his tracks. His eyes swept over the people present and Elizabeth dared not look at him for fear that he might turn out to be some eldritch horror come to mock her and her poor choices. 

He did not linger though, moving forward to slip a couple of coins into the collection box and taking a seat in the pew opposite. He did not look in their direction, simply placed his hat on his lap and stared straight ahead. 

In front of them, the vicar moved into position and began reciting the Lord’s Prayer. Elizabeth knew she was saying the words but she could not hear herself over the pounding of her blood in her own ears. She leaned forward as unobtrusively as she could and chanced a quick glance in her step-brother’s direction. He was not speaking. 

He stayed like that throughout the service, neither singing nor reciting the prayers that were said for his dead father’s soul. When the service concluded, he was the first up and out the chapel. 

It had started to rain when they came out into the church-yard. The grave was at the far end, and the grave stood already dug and starting to grow muddy at the bottom. There was a pile of freshly turned earth next to it. 

Ross moved to take his place at the front of the mourners and at the side of his father’s grave. He looked neither left nor right and simply stared into the open grave, his face a mask. The vicar took his place at the head of the grave and started the final set of prayers as the coffin was lowered into the ground on ropes. 

Elizabeth watched the man who’d been both brother and lover to her as the people around him spoke in a low murmur as they joined in the prayer. Ross did not. Instead he was clearly muttering something under his breath and Elizabeth was sure he was speaking in Cornish. She would have dearly loved to know what he was saying. Unlike her mother, she had never spoken the tongue of her native Cornwall. Ross did, having learned it from his own mother and she knew that he and Grace had used it whenever they did not want Joshua to be privy to their conversations. Grace Poldark had been a wild creature, uncouth and uncivilised according to Elizabeth’s mother who had known her before Joshua had had her committed to the asylum she had died in. 

That thought bought on a shiver and she felt Francis put a possessive arm around her. He too had not taken his eyes off Ross and Elizabeth had not missed the looks he’d been giving his long lost cousin throughout the service and now. Not for the first time since Joshua’s death, she missed her sister-in-law. Verity was gone and her presence sorely missed. It was a pity. Elizabeth knew her feisty and eminently sensible sister-in-law would have been able to take the situation in hand. She’d always been able to handle her brother and her cousin had doted on her. Elizabeth sometimes felt that Verity was the only person Ross truly loved. 

The vicar recited the final words and the mourners started to shuffle away, headed for the pub across the road where the wake was being held. Ross remained where he was and Elizabeth let her eyes linger on him, so tall and straight backed with that thick hair curling from the damp. It was now a mass of untamed curls, the same ones she’d loved to run her fingers through when they had been together in happier times when they had been young and in love and she hadn’t sold her soul for what she had thought was a lifetime of comfort and security and safety. 

Ross had wanted to marry her, she knew that. They had sworn they would be faithful to each other through every effort to part them. Bu then had come the argument when her mother and Joshua had discovered their entanglement and the quarrel had been devastating. It had seen glass and furniture shattered and before the night was out, Ross had left the house with threats to never return.

He’d been gone the very next day, leaving Elizabeth to her fate.

Four years and Francis’ relentless pursuit of her had broken Elizabeth’s resolve and she’d agreed to marry him before her looks faded and she was deemed unworthy of marriage and she’d assured herself that it was the right course of action. Francis was comely and eloquent and while not possessed of the same passionate nature as Ross, he was steady and affable and Elizabeth had been convinced that she’d be able to manage her new husband and bend him to her desires easily enough.

The first time he’d struck her had been but a week after their wedding day and it had never stopped. She’d been sadly wrong in her belief that Francis Poldark was in any way manageable. His temper had proven to be every bit as terrible as his uncle and cousin, but with a violence that frequently found its mark on her body. Ross’ rages had been terrifying, but he’d never lifted a finger to hurt her in all their time they had known each other. Francis was not quite so restrained. He’d been obsessed with erasing Ross from her heart, but every blow had only thrown up the difference between them. 

They were now at an impasse, their relations having dwindled to nothing in her confinement and with neither of them having a kind word for each other. It was to be expected. Elizabeth had always compared the lacklustre couplings with her husband to those moments of exquisitely fleeting passion with Ross and she knew that Francis was all too aware of this.

It had made him wildly jealous, his attempts to wipe Ross from their lives making him irascible. He’d done the same with Joshua, trying to take Ross’ place in the Poldark Trading Company and he’d been just as unsuccessful in that endeavour. 

They stood and took the offered words of comfort such as they were from the other mourners. Once the last of them passed, Francis took her arm to escort her to the pub. He’d bemoaned the custom, miserly to the last as he’d complained bitterly about the cost. 

They had just turned when a low voice behind them stopped them in their tracks. 

‘Tell me cousin, were you so short of money that you could not afford to buy my father a decent burial?’ 

They turned and Elizabeth saw those dark eyes were now fixed on them both. It also allowed her to get a better look at Ross and small details jumped out at her. The scar on his face was new to her, although long healed by the look of it. It gave Ross a dangerous look. His coat and other garments were well cut and yet showed wear, as did his boots which were scuffed by use. He wore no obvious signs of finery. 

It was his eyes though that startled her the most. They were cold, the eyes of a pitiless man and she felt Francis quail under that direct gaze. Her husband’s body was tense and she could see anger rising to the surface once again. 

‘As you were not here to perform the duties of a son, I have had to do them in your stead.’ His voice was sneering. ‘I am sorry they are not to your liking, cousin.’ He fairly spat the last word. Ross’ eyes narrowed and it sent an illicit thrill through Elizabeth in spite of herself. 

‘You might have been spending my father’s money as if it were your own, but make no mistake that it has means you have been performing the duties of a son.’ Ross’ eyes were now burning. ‘Even I could have spared the shilling that would have him buried deep enough to be kept out of the reaches of the resurrectionists.’ 

Francis was about to retaliate, but then gathered himself up. 

‘We are done with you.’ His voice was icy. ‘Now you are welcome to join my wife and I at the wake if you can keep a civil tongue.’

Ross barked a harsh laugh. 

‘I fear I am no longer fit for civilised company.’ He smiled and it was as sharp as a blade. Then he turned his dark eyes on Elizabeth and she felt like he was seeing all the way through her. ‘You look well, Elizabeth. It is good to see you are perpetuating the Poldark line.’ 

Elizabeth felt her voice fail and then Francis tugged her arm, his fingers digging in through the fabric of her coat. 

‘Come my dear.’ He was giving Ross a poisonous look. ‘We must not keep our guests waiting.’ 

She followed him obediently and they had gone a few steps before Ross’ voice rang out once again. 

‘The next time you are short a shilling or two, be sure to ask me for the funds you need.’ There was a subtle mockery underlying the words. ‘I seem to have done rather well for myself.’

Francis’ shoulders stiffened and then he walked off, dragging Elizabeth along with him.

*********

Ross watched them leave the church-yard, his blood boiling. It was a deep seated anger, red and velvety and with an iron tang like blood on his tongue. He’d long learned to still his temper, to make himself immune to the passions inside him and so he did and said nothing even as his mind and heart railed against what he’d seen. He’d never expected to see the woman who’d sworn herself to him married to his cousin, pitiful excuse for a man that he was. 

He stood there a while longer, then spat on the ground. It made the gravediggers start, and they looked at him in surprise. Ross ignored them, clamped his hat on his head and made his way through the church-yard to the pub across the road. 

He did not go inside. Instead he made his way around the back and through the courtyard. There were men working there, boiling a great pot of offal for pies and the stink was terrible. He paid it no mind, walking further into the maze of wooden outbuildings. 

He moved into the shadows of a rickety shed and waited, keeping an eye on the back entrance of the pub. He waited, still as the air itself as he stood and listened to the sound of his father’s wake inside. 

It was about half an hour later that the man he sought came out. Trelawney looked a little unsteady on his feet and Ross wondered if he still had a weakness for the bottle. 

Trelawney wended his way down through to the stables, no doubt in need of a piss. Ross pushed off from the wall and followed him. He got to the wall of the stable and watched Trelawney piss into the dirt, cursing as he fumbled with his trousers. He looked up and saw Ross and blanched as he fell back. 

‘Dear God, Ross.’ he admonished. ‘You’ll do a man an injury like that, lurking around like some kind of malevolent visitation.’ 

‘I see that your ability to hold your drink is still lacking conviction, Trelawney.’ Ross smiled, but there was no humour in it. ‘How fare’s my father’s wake?’

‘You should be inside with them.’ Trelawney said and then hiccoughed delicately. He held two fingers to his mouth. ‘I fear that your return has been most untimely, Ross. There is nothing left for you so if you have come seeking a grand inheritance you shall be mightily disappointed. All that is left is that house you have no doubt come to roost in and that accursed piece of wasteland off the Pacific coast.’

‘See, now you speak words that interest me.’ Ross grinned. ‘Tell me more.’ 

‘They are hopping indoors.’ Trelawney said. ‘Francis is livid that you have returned. I have seen the will, Ross. It’s all yours, such as it is.’

‘Good.’ Ross nodded. ‘I shall call at your offices the day after tomorrow, once the will has been read. Be sure to have everything ready for me.’

‘There’s something afoot, Ross.’ Trelawney called after him as he strode off. ‘You need to be careful.’ 

Ross let the lawyer’s words slide off him and kept walking. 

*******

Jud set the plate down on the table, picking up a fork and polishing it on his sleeve before he went back into the kitchen. When he returned he came into the salon and nearly jumped out of his skin when he spied the tall figure lurking in the shadows by the fireplace. 

‘Gods’s teeth.’ he swore. ‘You need to stop doin’ that or it’ll be me heart what gives out.’

Ross chuckled as he stepped into the light. 

‘I’m hungry.’ He moved to sit at the place Jud had set. ‘Dinner.’ 

‘It’s coming.’ Jud grumbled as he stomped to the kitchen. He returned with a cold sliced joint and a bowl of boiled potatoes, setting them down in front of Ross before heading back for the butter and pickled onions. Ross helped himself to the meat already set down and then looked up as Jud returned with a loaf of dark bread. He nodded at the seat across from him and Jud frowned. 

‘Sit.’ Ross instructed. ‘I wish to hear a story.’ 

‘I stopped telling you stories when you were twelve.’ Jud muttered but he sat nonetheless. Ross nudged the pie over to him and then started eating, strong white teeth biting down on the bread he held as if it had personally offended him. 

‘I spoke with Trelawney at the wake.’ He looked at Jud, his hazel eyes sharp. ‘You were not invited?’

‘It wasn’t thought seemly, seein’ as I’m just a servant.’ Jud snorted, taking a huge helping of potatoes. 

‘You should have been there. You had the right.’ Ross said. ‘How long was he ill?’

‘These last few months.’ Jud spoke with his mouth full. ‘He went quickly. It affected his mind too. He would go stand on that damned foreshore and shout your name into the wind.’

‘I know.’ Ross ripped off another piece of bread and spread it thickly with butter. ‘I heard him calling to me. It’s why I came home.’

Jud snorted again. 

‘Your cousin had ‘im moved to ‘is ‘ouse.’ He took the offered glass of wine Ross had poured. ‘Thank ‘ee.’

‘How long was he with them?’ Ross asked and took a long drink from his glass. 

‘The last two weeks.’ Jud slapped a piece of beef on his slice of bread and sprinkled it with salt. ‘He had a terrible stomach. They thought he would be more comfortable.’

‘A terrible stomach?’ Ross frowned. ‘He was purging?’

‘Every day.’ Jud bit into his bread and beef. ‘T’was blood in it too.’ He looked at Ross, his blue eyes shrewd. ‘Not like your father at all. He was always strong.’ Ross nodded in agreement. 

‘That he was.’ He looked thoughtful. ‘As strong as the devil himself.’

*********

Elizabeth sat at the table. She hardly felt like eating, barely nibbling at her dinner. At the head of the table, Francis was chewing away stoically and it made her sick to look at him.

‘How?’ he muttered. ‘How is he returned?’ He glared at her. ‘You knew?’

‘I most certainly did not.’ Elizabeth replied. ‘I thought him dead, just as everyone else did.’ 

‘Did you?’ Francis’s voice was tight with impending anger and she winced internally. ‘Yes, you must have. If you’d had the slightest inkling he was coming back, you would have found a way to be rid of me.’

‘Now you are simply being ridiculous.’ She lifted her chin, trying to maintain her calm. ‘I am married to you Francis, not Ross.’

‘Only because he wasn’t here.’ Francis hissed, the venom in his voice taking her a little by surprise. ‘If he had been, it would be his hell-spawn in your belly and not my son.’ He sneered at her. ‘Disgusting. Lusting after a man who is as your brother.’ 

Elizabeth bit the inside if her cheek, willing herself not to cry. This was not an unfamiliar refrain. She took a deep breath and got up from her seat. 

‘I feel unwell.’ She smoothed her hands down the front of her dress and over her swollen belly. ‘Your son sickens me.’ She started to walk past Francis, but his hand shot and caught her by the wrist, twisting it cruelly and making her cry out in pain. 

‘Whore!’ His face was contorted in rage. ‘You still long for him.’ 

‘Only because he would not treat me so!’ Elizabeth spat back. ‘Now let me go!’ She twisted her hand out his grasp, rubbing at the bruised skin as she swept past and out the dining room. 

She managed to make it upstairs and lock herself in her bedroom before the tears finally came.

**********

The church-yard was silent as the graves it contained. In the shadow of a low tree, two men toiled as a third kept watch in the driving rain that had started falling earlier in the evening. 

They hauled the body out the ground, grunting with effort, then climbed out and carried it to the small ante-chamber at the side of the chapel. There was a cart waiting there and they loaded the shrouded figure onto it and covered it with the tarpauling in the back. The man who had been watching climbed into the seat at the front and flicked the reins to set the dray moving. 

He drove the cart for a while through the quiet streets to the very same mortuary house the body had passed through earlier and the man got down and went to the back of the cart, hauling the body onto his shoulder and carrying it into the stone building. 

Inside he was greeted by the mortician, a man with glasses and an unruly mop of ginger curls. He directed the resurrectionist to lay the body on the cooling slab and then handed over the payment. The other left and he moved to unpick the stitching of the shroud and expose the corpse of Joshua Poldark, his skin now pale and waxy. 

‘You are welcome to stay and witness my efforts.’ He looked into the shadows. ‘I shall mix the contents of his stomach with potassium and calcium oxides and nitric acid. The reaction will take a while.’ 

‘How long?’ Ross moved into the circle of candlelight. 

‘Twenty minutes.’ The mortician adjusted his pince-nez. ‘Come back when the bell rings.’ 

Ross moved away and left the man to his odious work. He had no love for the people he was dealing with but this was necessary and they were the best ones to tell him what he wanted to know. He moved along the corridor from the main preparation room, his boots echoing in the quiet. He got to the cool room and saw other sheeted forms resting on trestle tables and awaiting burial. 

Ross stopped and closed his eyes, hearing the whispers around him begin. He opened them again, the black eclipsing the hazel as time and space shifted around him, the colour bleeding out of this twilight world of the dead and the damned. 

‘No.’ He moved to the nearest one, ripping the sheet from the body and casting it to the floor. ‘I have no time for this. You shall be silent.’

The whispering grew in intensity and Ross moved from corpse to corpse, yanking the sheets from them and exposing them all. 

‘No!’ he gritted his teeth against the rising torrent of rage inside him. He turned and spied the last of them, watching as it sat up and drew the sheet away from its face and cold dead body. It had been a man in life, tall and imposing, and it climbed off its table. It staggered towards him, hands outstretched and Ross stood his ground, raising his finger to point in his face.

‘You may not judge me this day.’ He glowered at the dead man and the dead man stared back into him, his eyes as flat and black as Ross’ own. ‘I know that my path leads to hellfire and damnation, but today I have work to do. Now go and leave me to it!’ 

The dead man stopped and lurched back from him, then faded away into nothing. The colour came back and Ross’ eyes faded back to their habitual hazel as the spell was broken. 

When he returned, the mortician had lit his burner and was heating liquid in a flask connected to his apparatus. There was a thin tube leading from the sealed flask and he used a taper to light the gas escaping from it.

‘An ingenious experiment.’ He declared and held his spectacles in just above the flame. ‘Chemists call it an arsenic mirror.’ 

Ross came forward to watch what he was doing and the mortician took his spectacles away from the flame and handed them to Ross to examine. 

‘Not the reflective coating.’ He pointed to the effect that was now visible on the glass. ‘Your father was undoubtedly poisoned.’

‘Thank you.’ Ross dug out another pair of coins, these with a gleam of silver, and handed them to the mortician. 

‘You wish him sewn up and reburied?’ The mortician asked even as Ross started for the door of the mortuary. 

‘Yes.’ His voice echoed from the gloom. ‘And at the proper depth this time.’

‘Yes.’ The mortician had a sly smile on his face. ‘It would be a pity if he should be dug up once again.’ 

He did not have time to regret his words before he was being thrown up against the wall and a sharp blade was pressed to the soft skin of his throat. He flinched back from the look on Ross’ face, a rage so deep and so terrible he felt he had never seen its like before. 

‘Should I find out he has been, it will be you lying on that slab.’ The words were menacing and the mortician felt his stomach turn queasy with fear. He looked into black eyes and felt his bladder let go, the piss running down his legs. 

‘I meant nothing by it.’ he whimpered and the blade came away from his neck, only to be held in his face. 

‘I am mightily glad to hear it.’ Ross replied. ‘Just remember that I speak to the dead and they shall tell me if you do.’ 

He let the mortician go and slipped the knife back into its hiding place, then turned on his heel and left.


	3. A Probate Reading

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time to find out what the will says.

The day following the funeral of Joshua Poldark started grey and wet. Jud grumbled as he rolled out of bed and dressed, before going into the kitchen and starting water to heat for Ross’ bath as he pottered around and gathered the fixings for breakfast. 

He went upstairs to the room that had been Joshua’s. It was the finest in the house, with a large window that looked out over the foreshore and could see clear across the Thames on even a wintry day. He’d made the bed up fresh, but to his surprise Jud found it empty and unused. He snorted and began his search, but Ross was nowhere to be seen.

He happened to glance out the window of the attic which doubled as Joshua’s study and workshop, crowded with all sorts of eccentricities and oddments from his travels, and saw a tall figure at the water’s edge. He huffed and shook his head, muttering at the madness of father and son both. 

*********

Ross looked out over the river, the stench from the rubbish that littered the river banks not bothering him in the slightest. Even as he stood there, he did notice a slinking shape to his left and turned to look at it. 

The hound was black, its coat and paws clotted with the thick Thames mud. It watched him, head raised and amber eyes fixed on him. Ross snorted a laugh and then crouched down. The hound gave him a baleful look and darted away, although it didn’t go too far. 

Ross straightened up and began walking back to the house. He did notice that the hound fell in behind him and followed him across the street and through the gate. When Ross opened the front door, it went in ahead of him as if it had always lived there. He chuckled and came in behind it, closing the door and wandering into the parlour. Jud was just coming though from the kitchen with the coffee pot and he glared at the new arrival that was now curling itself up in front of the freshly made fire with its nose under its tail. 

‘What the bleedin’ hell is that?’ Jud demanded. 

‘It appears to be a dog.’ Ross took a seat at the table. ‘Although I have been away so long, I may have forgotten.’

Jud looked daggers at him as he poured his coffee. 

‘You didn’t sleep in your bed last night.’ he muttered and Ross sipped the near scalding liquid before he replied. As always it could have been used to strip wallpaper. 

‘No.’ He set the cup back down. ‘I don’t think sleeping in my father’s room is going to be conducive to a good night’s rest.’ 

‘Well what then?’ Jud huffed. ‘You goin’ to hang from the rafters like a bat?’

‘Actually I thought you could make me up a bed in the attic.’ Ross reached for the loaf of bread Jud had made the night before. It was a little dense as he didn’t have Prudie’s deft touch but it was passable if one put enough jam on it. ‘Just take a mattress from the one of the spare rooms and throw it down. I am well used to not sleeping in a proper bed.’

‘Savagery.’ Jud muttered. ‘Next, you’ll be telling me that the dog stays.’ 

‘I need more than this.’ Ross directed. ‘Go and make me some proper breakfast.’ He watched Jud retreat to the kitchen, grinning at his obvious irritation. ‘And the dog stays.’

‘Bleedin’ ‘ounds and not sleeping in proper beds.’ Jud sounded thoroughly disgusted. ‘What bleedin’ next?’

After breakfast Ross went upstairs after leaving instructions for Jud to fill the tub in the small antechamber off his mother’s bedroom. He ignored the complaints about old bones and arthritis and by the time he got to the landing outside the long sealed door he was no longer listening to anything at all but the whispers of the house and its long departed inhabitants. 

Joshua had never cleared Grace’s room. Ross considered that it was partly superstition and partly fear that had prevented him from doing so. It had been sealed from the time Elizabeth and her mother had joined their household and Ross had used to sneak into it at night to look at his dead mother’s things. 

He did the same now, turning the knob and cracking the door open. The room beyond had a wonderful view of the river as well, the twin to his father’s. Elizabeth’s mother had never crossed its threshold, her own room overlooking the rear garden instead. It had been a bone of some contention but Joshua had never relented on that front. 

Ross shut the door quietly behind him and stood in the dimly lit room. He crossed over to the window and pulled the curtains back, shaking loose clouds of dust that drifted through the still air and caught the light. 

Grace’s room was beautiful and Joshua had spared no expense in decorating it. The wallpaper was a beautiful deep blue, painted with branches and songbirds in colours that had not faded through time. Her bed was a stately four poster in dark wood, hung with drapes of indigo taffeta. It was still made and for a moment he remembered what it had been like to crawl into that bed in the mornings when Joshua was long departed for his day’s work, or the long stretches of time he was away. It had just been the two of them, curled up together while Grace told him wonderful stories of jungles and mermaids and strange creatures that padded through the night. 

He stroked over the velvet coverlet and then moved away to stand at Grace’s dressing table. The mirror was foxed and smoky and there were tarnished silver trays lying on the wooden surface that held strings of beads and other bits of jewellery. His fingers trailed over his mother’s possessions, turned over the brush to see dark hairs still tangled in its bristles. Like Joshua she had been dark and while he favoured his father in looks, Ross knew that his other attributes had come solely from her. 

He left the dressing table and walked to the fireplace. He knelt and leaned in to tap one fingertip against the back. The hiding place had been their secret, never discovered by his father. There was one brick which was loose, although you had to look carefully to identify it as such. 

Ross worked the brick loose and placed it on the floorboards beside him. He slipped one hand into the cavity now exposed and withdrew a bundle. It was oiled silk, a deep green colour, and rectangular. He felt a tingle in his fingers even as he touched it, the power the cards inside still held enough to make his teeth ache. They were ancient, handed down through generations of his mother’s family – witches all. She’d once said that it was a rare thing for the power to come to a boy, but he was the last of their family and so it had. He had the same abilities she had had, the call to the low animals and the dead. He could read the future in the cards he held or the guts of a dead rabbit if that was what he chose and cast a spell that would kill a man in a week. 

All of this had been what he’d been running from of course, that and his love for Elizabeth. Her mother had seen through him, been terrified of her daughter loving a madman. Now that ship had sailed and Elizabeth was married to Francis and far from his clutches. 

He sat on the ground cross-legged and unwrapped the bundle, the silk floating to the floor as he spread the cards out around him in fan. They were simple, black with white printing that showed the major and minor arcana and he smiled as he remembered sitting like this with Grace in front of the fire as she’d taught him how to read them. 

‘Ross!’ Jud’s voice drifted in under the door to the antechamber. ‘Where are you, boy?’

‘Coming.’ He swept the cards back into a pile and wrapped them back up before he got to his feet and tucked them into his pocket. 

He found Jud emptying that second of the pails into the bath. He made a show of cracking his back and then gave Ross’ clothing a sour look. 

‘You’ll need something else for the reading.’ He gave Ross’ garments a pointed look. ‘You look poor and you bought no luggage.’

Ross chuckled. 

‘I hardly have time to call on a tailor.’ He held out both hands. ‘And as for luggage, I had none which is why I bought none with me.’

‘I’ll get something of your father’s.’ Jud huffed. ‘You two are alike in shape and size.’ He stomped off and Ross smiled to himself at Jud’s slip. 

He undressed and got into the hot water, heaving a sigh of pleasure as the heat soothed his muscles. He closed his eyes and submerged and came back up again, then lay back and dozed. 

A startled gasp made him open his eyes and he saw Jud staring at him in unconcealed horror. 

‘What the bleedin’ hell are those.’ He gestured at Ross and Ross laughed. 

‘A souvenir.’ He looked down at his arms and torso, the concentric bands of solid black and the strange markings that interspersed them the cause of Jud’s reaction. 

‘You are now truly a savage.’ Jud shook his head and then laid out the clothing he’d bought. ‘I found some things your father ordered before he got sick. He’s never worn them.’

‘Good.’ Ross splashed water on his face. ‘I prefer something not contaminated by that man.’

Jud started to leave and then stood in the doorway. 

‘You could have written, Ross.’ His voice was chiding but not unkind. ‘Just the once even.’

‘He killed my mother, Jud.’ Ross replied. ‘I owed him nothing but my hatred.’

‘Your mother was mad.’ Jud countered. ‘Anyone could see it. Having her committed was the kindest thing to do.’

‘What?’ Ross bit back the anger. ‘Having her locked in that place where she could never see the sun or breathe the fresh air again, where all she had was despair until she finally took her own life?’ He shook his head. ‘He murdered her as surely as if he’d struck the blow himself. Now go and speak no more of this to me.’ 

Jud said nothing more, just left and pulled the door closed behind him. 

Ross let him go and sank back down in the water. He contemplated Jud’s words and dismissed them. He and Joshua had broken with each other long before he’d left. Ross recalled the day they’d come for his mother and how he’d cried and clung to her skirts as she’d tried to soothe him. He’d bitten Jud on the arm when he'd had pulled him away and Jud still bore the scar. Ross had seen it at breakfast, a white semi-circle that had been left by Ross’ sharp teeth. 

He was lost in himself when there was the touch of a cold nose against his hand, which was on the side of the tub. Ross started and looked into a pair of amber eyes and a long snout which was now resting on his hand. 

The hound looked at him and whined, its curved tail gently waving from side to side. It made Ross smile in spite of his unhappy memories. He lifted his hand and stroked the hound’s head. 

‘Where did you come from and why did you follow me home?” he asked and hound whined again and got up, it’s front paws now on the tub as it tried to lick his face. Ross laughed and shoved it away and then proceeded to give himself a thorough wash. When he was finished, he got out and hauled the hound into the tub as well, washing the mud from its coat until it had had enough and jumped out. It was long enough for Ross to discover it was a bitch and that she was clearly underfed judging from how her ribs stuck out through her coat. He let her escape downstairs and then smiled when he heard Jud shouting curses as the hound obviously shook herself all over him. 

Jud had also bought a razor and Ross now took his time, scraping the stubble from his cheeks. The face that emerged was sharp and far older than he remembered. He dressed in the clothes Jud had bought and then examined himself again. Thankfully the clothes Joshua had ordered fitted him perfectly, his angular frame the same as his fathers. The shirt and neckcloth were white, the waistcoat and coat varying shades of black in silk and velvet respectively. It was far finer than anything he’d worn in a very long time. 

He was fully dressed when he descended, having found his now polished boots outside the antechamber door. He moved almost silently, years of needing to move without being tracked having become habit. 

He got to the parlour and grinned when he saw that Jud was now sitting on the floor, feeding the hound scraps from a bowl. 

‘I see you two have made amends.’ he remarked as he came into the room and Jud got a guilty look on his face. 

‘She was hungry.’ He sounded defensive. ‘And the poor thing’s half starved. If you’re going to insist on keeping her, she should be fed.’

‘Aye, she should.’ Ross went to retrieve his coat and pulled it on, then took his hat down from the hook. He noted that Jud had brushed it as best he could, but it was still weather stained. He looked at the unlikely pair. 

‘I shall be back late.’ He put his hat on. 

‘Where are you going?’ Jud gave him a suspicious look. 

‘After the will is read, I have business with Trelawney.’ Ross said. ‘And thereafter, my affairs are my own. It’s probably best you plead innocent as to my movements.’ He grinned and Jud snorted at him. 

‘You’re just like ‘im.’ His eyes narrowed. ‘You can rage all you like but there’s more of Joshua Poldark in you than you profess.’ 

‘Feed the dog more. She needs fattening up.’ Ross ordered and walked out the room. 

He crossed the road to the foreshore and walked along the shingle for a few yards before he turned and made his way back up to the ostler’s. He waited while the bravest of the grooms attempted to saddle Bathsheba and then took over himself when she attempted to savage the terrified boy. 

The mare settled as soon as she felt Ross’ hands and he gentled her as he tacked her up and then rode her out into the streets. Trelawney’s offices were in Wapping, not far from the warehouses on the foreshore that had been the home of the Poldark Trading Company that Ross had plans to visit once he was done. He did not stop there first, instead he rode to the Royal Peculiar St Katherine’s. It was here that the court reading of Joshua’s will would be taking place.

Bathsheba’s hooves clipped on the cobbles as he rode her through the invariable human flotsam of the docklands – sailors and whores and porters and all manner of labourer and person who made their living from this bustling trade. A boy offered to hold her reins when he arrived at the church and Ross handed her over with a copper and a threat should she be mistreated. He’d missed the contrary animal in spite of himself. 

The will was to be read in the lower room of the church’s chambers. Ross came in and found that it was already occupied by a good number of people. He saw Elizabeth and Francis and gave them a cursory nod as he came to take his seat in the pew opposite. Trelawney was seated there and he greeted Ross as he sat down. 

Elizabeth had become a fine looking woman, all her promises of grace coming to fruition. Francis was as pale and lily livered as he’d always been, a touch of the dandy about the way he dressed. Ross was reminded of Jud’s words about how Francis had been spending Joshua’s money. He’d heard other things too. Information was as good a currency as and words travelled to the most unexpected places. 

The registrar was a wiry man, spectacles balanced on the end of his ling nose. He sat down with a great deal of fussing and Ross repressed the urge to go over and slam the annoying little man’s face into his desk. He settled for glowering at him and was gratified to see that it made the official look rather unsettled. 

He began with the usual religious nonsense and it went on for a while. Ross quickly got bored listening to him prattle on. He’d never had much love for bureaucracy. Next to him, Trelawney was listening closely. 

As Ross suspected, the list of Joshua’s debtors was particularly long. He sat and listened with a neutral expression, although he did so enjoy the look of increasing horror on Francis’ face as the sums of money were announced. 

Finally they came to the bequests. The registrar adjusted his spectacles. 

‘There is only the one beneficiary.’ he stated, and then read from the document in his hands. ‘All my properties as listed in my assets are to be bequeathed to my only son, Ross Vennor Poldark, in the hope that he will find them suitable recompense.’ 

Francis made a choking noise and went red. It delighted Ross to see it. 

The registrar looked up in some surprise. ‘I was informed that the son was dead.’

‘That is in error.’ Trelawney had half risen from his seat next to Ross. ‘He is but recently returned and very much alive.’ He threw Francis a look and Ross realised that he must be the source of that particular information. 

The registrar nodded and concluded the reading of the will. By this time, Ross could see that Francis had now gone almost puce. 

There was now the usual set of questions with regards to the settling of debts and Trelawney confirmed that those who were owed money would be able to file a claim with his offices. 

Ross rose from his seat but found his way blocked by a furious looking Francis.

‘You bastard.’ His voice was a venomous hiss. ‘That should have been mine.’

‘Which part?” Ross replied, sarcasm making his voice sharp. ‘Perhaps one could argue that it is I who should feel aggrieved to return home and find my inheritance plundered.’ 

Francis went white with anger. 

‘You left.’ It was full of accusation. ‘You left like a thief in the night and I was the one who had to fill your place. I have taken only what I was owed.’

‘So it would seem.’ Ross looked past him to where Elizabeth was watching them, her dark eyes guarded. ‘And not all of that which used to belong to me seems to have been unwilling.’ He felt a sense of satisfaction at the momentary flair of pain in her eyes. ‘But all is now as it should be. I will not reclaim the money that I should have received. The property is more than I need.’ 

‘Do not think I shall not contest this.’ Francis threatened. ‘Joshua promised everything to me.’

‘Yes.’ Ross nodded and then caught hold of Francis by the lapel and pulled him in close enough to murmur in his ear. ‘But then poison does addle one’s wits, does it not?’

He kept his voice deliberately low and was enough to shock his cousin into silence. 

Ross met Francis’ eyes. They looked back at him, pale blue and now with more than a hint of fear in them. It was all he needed to confirm his suspicions.

‘Francis?’ Elizabeth’s voice was cautious. ‘Please, this is hardly the place…’

‘Quiet!’ Francis gave her a look that made her shrink back from him. He looked back at Ross and now the blue was blazing. ‘This is not done, Ross. I will have my satisfaction.’ 

‘Next, you’ll be challenging me to a duel.’ Ross smiled but there was no humour in it. ‘What would your wife think of that?’ He took advantage of Francis’ silence to step neatly past him and walk from the room. 

Trelawney was waiting for him outside, a wry grin on his face.

‘I see that you’ve hardly changed a bit.’ He moved with Ross as they started walking. ‘And you’re every bit as confrontational as your father was.’

‘I am sick to the gills with hearing how alike to my father I am.’ Ross muttered. ‘I need to get my horse and then I shall be with you shortly.’ 

‘Very well.’ Trelawney replied. ‘I’ll be sure to have the brandy ready.’


	4. A Co-Conspirator or Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ross starts recruiting.

Trelawney was true to his word and a decanter and two glasses were on his desk when Ross arrived in his chambers. The lawyer had removed his coat and was now sitting with a spread of papers around him. He beckoned Ross over and Ross went to take a seat in the chair opposite him. 

‘How much do you know about your father’s holdings?’ He looked at Ross closely, as if measuring him. 

‘A fair amount.’ Ross replied, sitting down and accepting the glass. ‘But tell me anyway.’

‘Well, in addition to the house in Southwark there is the warehouse on the Isle of Dogs.’ Trelawney sat back and tapped his forefingers together. ‘But I get the feeling that is not what you are particularly interested in.’ 

‘No.’ Ross sipped the brandy. ‘Tell me more about the piece of land in the Pacific.’

‘It is north-west of Vancouver Island.’ Trelawney handed him a document and Ross saw it was a hand drawn map. ‘Now, Vancouver island in itself is of great strategic value. It opens to route to the Orient, and that of course means trade. However, it is a long way to travel and the need for provisions means that its position is remarkable. If one were to create a trading outpost here, one could become very rich indeed.’ 

‘I’m already rich.’ Ross said, but he was now studying the map carefully. ‘I ran across some good fortune while I was in Africa.’ He chuckled and dug his fingers into the pocket of his waistcoat and then tossed something at Trelawney. 

Trelawney caught the object and then nearly dropped it in surprise when he realised what he was holding. 

‘Is it real?’ He stared at the diamond in his hand that was the size of a hazelnut. 

‘I hope so or I killed a remarkably large number of people for nothing.’ Ross was watching Trelawney’s face and smiled when he saw the shock. It was something he enjoyed immensely. Trelawney put the diamond down as quickly as he could and then discreetly wiped his hand on his waistcoat. 

‘Knowing you, it’s probably cursed.’ he muttered and Ross barked a laugh. 

‘It’s what will be paying your list of debtors.’ he pointed out. ‘Although you may wish to convert it into something that is easier to split into shares.’ He nodded at the stone still lying between them on the green Moroccan leather. ‘Its twin fetched me three hundred Pounds yesterday in Hatton Garden. I reckon it shall clear my father’s debts and leave you with a nice little retainer.’ 

‘Retainer for what?’ Trelawney asked. 

‘I plan on opening the company once more and I shall require the services of a lawyer.’ Ross explained. ‘As you said, were one to open a trading company on the island my father owns, he would be a very rich man indeed. Especially when one considers that it opens the route to China.’ 

‘So that’s your little game?’ Trelawney sat back and studied him. ‘You do know the island is uninhabited? It’s the only reason your father was able to buy it from the tribe that owns the land surrounding it. They consider it truly cursed and according to him they considered him a fool for buying it from them.’ 

‘He was a fool.’ Ross met Trelawney’s eyes and held his gaze. ‘But he was a fool with vision. Soon the border between the newly founded United States and England will be drawn up and that bit of coastline will become extremely valuable to the ones who hold it.’

‘And just how do you know where the border will run?’ Trelawney asked. ‘No-one, not even the East India, knows that.’ 

‘I have spent the last two years in places where it has been my business to know.’ Ross replied. ‘And that is all I shall tell you. It is safer if you act merely as my solicitor.’ 

‘What are you planning, Ross?’ Trelwney shook his head. ‘This sounds like a dangerous game you are playing.’ 

‘That’s because it is no game.’ Ross leaned forward and rolled the diamond back to him. ‘Your first task shall be to clear my father’s debts and then begin making sure the company’s papers are in order.’ He got up and held out a hand. ‘I am going to take a look at what’s left on the docks and I believe you hold a key.’

Trelawney sighed and turned his attention to a strongbox on his desk. He unlocked it with a key he took from around his neck and placed the diamond inside and took out another key, this one much larger. He handed it to Ross and Ross nodded and then turned on his heel, striding out the office.

‘Don’t expect there to be too much.’ Trelawney called after him but got no reply. 

********

Warleggan was interrupted from his work by the sound of footsteps. They sounded like those of a man with urgent news and when Unwin appeared in his office, he looked like a man who was both desperate to give news and also terrified that the news in question would see him at a sticky end. 

‘Well, what is it?’ Warleggan demanded. Unwin’s clear unease irritated him. 

‘Sir…’ Unwin twisted his hands. ‘I have had a report back from the Poldark probate hearing.’

‘Good.’ Warleggan said and leaned back in his chair, waving his hand dismissively. ‘When can we begin the transfer of the funds to acquire the island?’ He glared at Unwin. ‘Or is that damned fool demanding more money?’

‘No, sir.’ Unwin’s voice quailed. ‘But there has been a development.’ 

‘What kind of development, Unwin?’ Warleggan narrowed his eyes at him. ‘And you not tel me that it is an unwelcome one.’

‘It appears that Ross Poldark is alive.’ Unwin was now trembling with fear. ‘Not only is he alive, he is also the sole heir to all of the assets belonging to his late father.’

At first Warleggan said nothing. Then he crumpled the piece of parchment he was holding in his fist. 

‘Out.’ It was barely audible but the wrath in it was unmistakeable. Unwin didn’t move, struck motionless by seeming terror and then next words came out as a roar. ‘OUT I SAY!’  
Unwin nearly fell over in his flight and bumped into George as he exited the office. George spun around and watched him go, then turned back to his father. He frowned as he approached the desk. 

‘What on Earth was that about?’ he asked and then stopped dead as he saw the look of murderous rage on Warleggan’s face. ‘Father?’

‘Bloody fucking Poldarks!’ Warleggan spat. 

*********

Ross rode Bathsheba down to the docks at St Katherine’s and pulled her to a stop outside a building that seemed to have fallen into some repair. 

He dismounted and tied her to one of the discoloured brass rings still in place beside the front doors, two monumental pieces of iron bound wood that were locked shut. He took out the key and was about to place it in the lock when a voice rang out behind him. 

‘Oi!’ It was a woman and when Ross turned he could see she was of the lowest class. Her clothes were revealing and her hair dyed the unnatural black that some of the dockland whores affected. In spite of that, her face was still comely and her eyes a most arresting shade of green. 

‘I know you.’ He frowned as memory stirred. ‘My father bought me to you when I was but fourteen and still a boy.’ 

‘Well, if it’s another fuck you’re after you’ll have to wait.’ the whore stated, her hands on her hips. ‘The girls are all sleeping.’

‘In there?’ Ross looked back at the building. ‘And who gave you permission to use this warehouse?’

‘Who gives you permission to ask?’ the whore shot back, her eyes flashing angrily. 

Ross smiled and pointed a finger at the name plate by the door, now discoloured and slimed with green algae. 

The whore peered at the name plate and then looked at Ross, her face falling. 

‘Oh shit.’ Her mouth turned down.

‘As I said.’ Ross repeated. ‘Who gave you permission to use my family’s warehouse?’

He stepped past her and unlocked the doors, pushing them open and stepping into the gloomy interior. The whore came after him, swearing under her breath.

‘It was standing empty.’ she protested. ‘A complete waste of space and so close to the docks. 

Ross moved through the building. The main floor was now crowed with beds that were draped in fabric to afford some semblance of privacy. He pulled back one of the lace curtains and three naked whores, two women and a boy, looked up at him sleepily. He let the curtain fall back and continued his inspection. 

‘What is your name?’ he asked and the whore behind him answered. 

‘Mary Read.’ She straightened up and met his eyes, no fear in her at all. ‘And these are my girls and boys.’

‘And how much do you make here, Mary Read?’ Ross glanced at another bed where a monstrously fat woman was snoring like a pig. 

‘Ten Pounds a day.’ She folded her arms and lifted her chin defiantly. ‘I can give you five.’

‘I want you out.’ Ross turned to look at her. ‘By noon tomorrow.’

‘That’s impossible.’ Mary protested. ‘We have nowhere else to go.’

‘That is not my concern.’ Ross was dispassionate. He looked around him once more. ‘Tomorrow, Miss Read. If you please.’

He left her standing in the middle of her whores and went out into the sunshine. It was now getting on for one o’clock and Ross was hungry. He rode Bathsheba back through Wapping and stopping at the Prospect of Whitby where he ate a fine meat pie and drank ale and listened to the men around him talk of the comings and goings of the docks.  
Something of interest caught his ear and he honed in on the man’s words. 

‘I swear on me mam’s life.’ He sounded insistent as he spoke to the publican. ‘He made the very glass shatter just by throwing a piece of rock in it.’

‘It weren’t rock.’ The other man with him was disdainful. ‘It were some chemical. Sodium or somethin’. That’s what made it explode.’

‘Well, he’s right entertainin’.’ His companion grinned. ‘Worth every penny to see ‘im.’

‘Who is he?’ The publican asked. 

‘A chemist.’ The man explained. ‘Got a show down in Covent Garden. Three pence to see ‘im do wonders.’

‘What? Blowin’ things up?’ The publican did not sound convinced. ‘I can go down the docks and see that for free.’

‘Yeah, but ‘e does it scientific like.’ The man sounded assured now, pleased that he’d got one over on the argument. 

Ross went back to his food, the wheels in his head starting to turn. 

After he’d finished his meal, he rode in the direction of Covent Garden rather than home. He found the place the man had described by asking a few passers-by and then paid his money to enter. The show was conducted in a small room above a hop and Ross found himself surrounded by all types of people. 

He stood at the back, hat under his arm and looked to the front where there was a bench set up with all sorts of equipment. A few moments later, a man came through from behind a curtain at the back of the bench. Ross was interested to see that the chemist was of an age with him, his face smooth and unlined and topped with a mass of light brown hair. His light blue eyes had an intelligence to them that Ross appreciated and he settled back against the wall as the chemist began his show. 

It was thrilling, Ross had to admit. The culmination was a magnificent explosion that made all around him exclaim in wonder. Ross thought of the applications of that particular energy and smiled to himself. It seemed he had found his man. 

He waited until the end to file out with the rest, hanging around and going back up when he saw the man at the bottom who took the money come back down with his coat on. Ross made sure he’d left before he went back up the stairs, affecting that silent tread that ensured he would be able to get in undetected. 

He went back into the room and then stopped as his keen ears caught a very distinctive sound. It made him smile and he followed it to the back room, pulling back the curtain and taking in the sight of the chemist’s bare arse as he very enthusiastically fucked one of his female audience members over the worktable in front of them. 

Ross leaned in the doorway and waited until the chemist came with a low growl. Then he straightened up. 

‘They said you were a man of talent.’ he remarked and the chemict and his paramour both whirled around, coming unjoined in a most undignified fashion. The woman straightened her skirts and hurried off, leaving the chemist to pull up his trousers, spent cock flapping in his attempts to speedily dress himself. 

‘You, sir, are most unkind.’ He hopped on one foot and then redid his trousers. ‘That’s the first bit of cunt I’ve had in a month.’

‘Perhaps you should ask yourself why that is?’ Ross replied. ‘Besides, I have a matter of business to attend to with you.’

‘And what business would that be sir?’ The chemist ran one hand through his short hair, taming the waves into neatness. ‘Have you need of a chemist?’

‘I do.’ Ross gave him an appraising look. ‘And you smell like a man I can do business with.’

‘I find that an odd kind of compliment.’ The chemist stopped and then held out a hand after he’d wiped it on his trousers. ‘Dwight Enys. And who might you be, sir?’ 

‘Ross Poldark.’ Ross shook the offered hand and found the grip firm and forthright. He grinned, knowing this to often be the sign of a dishonest man. ‘Is there somewhere we may speak uninterrupted.’

‘Have you coin?’ Dwight asked, blue eyes bright with curiosity. 

‘I do.’ Ross dug one out of his pocket as evidence. Dwight broke into a brilliant smile and then clapped him on the shoulder. 

‘Then I know just the place.’ he declared. 

They went to a pub not too far from Dwight’s rooms and sat at a small table and drank their first pints. 

‘So what is you need of me?’ Dwight asked, rubbing his hands together in anticipation. ‘A reception perhaps or a garden party. My little tricks are excellent entertainment for most gatherings.’

‘No.’ Ross laid a half sovereign on the table. He didn’t miss the way Dwight’s eyes flicked down to it. ‘I have a business venture that I would like you to be a part of.’ 

‘And what kind of venture is that?’ Dwight was now staring as Ross added another coin to the pile. 

‘I need a chemist who is familiar with the making of gunpowder.’ Ross said and watched as Dwight choked on his pint. 

‘Gunpowder?’ he hissed. ‘What the bloody hell for?’

‘As I said, I have a business venture.’ Ross added three more coins to the pile. ‘And very deep pockets. All I require is the right individual, someone who is willing to take a risk that could prove to be very lucrative.’ 

‘How lucrative?’ Dwight’s eyes were now fairly boggling as Ross pushed the small stack of coins across to him. 

‘That would only be the beginning.’ Ross nodded at the coins. ‘But I need your assurance that you can do what I require.’ 

‘Oh I can deliver on your requirement.’ Dwight picked up the coins and they vanished into a pocket. ‘But I shall need supplies. Making gunpowder is not a cheap endeavour. It also requires certain ingredients which are rather difficult to come by.’ 

‘I am aware of that.’ Ross said. He signalled for another round. ‘But you can do it?’

‘Yes.’ Dwight nodded. ‘Now how much were you thinking?’

‘Twenty barrels.’ Ross replied and then hid a smile as the chemist choked on his pint again. 

‘Now that is an impossibility.’ he hissed when he’d recovered, looking around. ‘No-one can make that much. There simply isn’t enough saltpetre in the open market for a batch that size. Not with war raging in the Channel.’ 

‘Which is why I have plans to lay in a private supply.’ Ross explained. 

‘From where?’ Dwight scoffed. ‘The only places you can source that much would be direct from the caves of Burma or the warehouse of the East India Company who holds it in store for the Royal Navy.’ Then he seemed to come to his senses and his blue eyes went wide. This time the hiss was even lower and the looked of horror that accompanied it as almost comical. ‘No, Ross. You cannot.’

‘Not yet.’ Ross smiled. ‘But I have a plan.’ 

*********

They spoke long into the night and when Ross departed, Dwight was not quiet sober. He dropped him off at his rooms and then rode Bathsheba back down along the river and past the Tower on his way home. 

He got to the docks and stopped to hand Bathsheba over to the ostler, then walked along the network of wooden walkways until he made it down onto the foreshore. He stood and looked out over the river and at the sprinkling of lights on the other side. 

A noise caught his attention and Ross waited until the person behind him had gotten close enough to catch before he spoke. 

‘And who might you be?’ he asked. The person stopped and then came to stand next to him. Ross looked down into a pair of light eyes and a freckled countenance. The girl must have been around thirteen, a skinny little thing with a mass of curly hair around her sharp featured face. 

‘I’m Demelza.’ she declared, looking up at him. The fearlessness of her expression reminded him of someone and he instantly made the connection.

‘You do not work the docks?’ he asked. 

‘No. I’m a virgin.’ Demelza stated matter-of-factly. ‘I don’t whore.’

‘Now that is quite a thing.’ Ross studied the girl, noting her mismatched assortment of clothing and the man’s hat she wore stuck down on her curls. Her face was dirty and she looked like any of the other foreshore rats that congregated on the docks. ‘But then you are her daughter, are you not?’

‘Whose?’ Demelza looked a little put out and Ross had to admire her attempt to brazen it out. 

‘Your mother is Mary Read.’ he chuckled. ‘You have her fierce face, little one.’ He turned to face her. ‘But I am rather confused as to why you have sought me out.’

‘I saw her today.’ Demelza replied. ‘She was talking to a man with a silver tooth. She told him to come for you.’

‘Did she now?’ Ross looked at her closely. ‘But why are you telling me this?

‘Because you feel different.’ Demelza said. ‘You feel like me.’ 

‘And how is that?’ Ross was amused and more than a little intrigued. 

‘You talk to the dead.’ Demelza replied. ‘So do I.’

‘Really?’ Ross was surprised but he hid it completely. ‘You know how?’

‘Not too well.’ Demelza folded her arms. ‘But I reckon you can teach me better. They’ve told me so.’ 

‘I am no-one’s teacher.’ Ross shook his head. ‘Now tell me more about this man with the silver tooth.’ 

‘He’s not from these parts.’ Demelza kicked at a stone embedded in the mud. ‘He has lodgings near the Temple.’ 

‘Then that is where I shall look for him.’ Ross said. He started to walk away, then turned back. ‘Thank you, Demelza.’

‘You’re welcome.’ she replied and then melted into the shadows. 

Ross made his way back up to the docks and started to walk through the maze of buildings. A few moments later he felt a shift in the air and then the stealthy tread of someone following him.

The attack came from the left. 

The man was quick and agile, but Ross had spent more than his fair share of time in places where he’d had to fight his way out and the first strike simple cut through his coat and waistcoat, the knife skirting along his ribs and just breaking the skin. His own curved blade was in his hand before the man made the next pass and he crouched and struck up with it. The stink of blood hit his nose as he gutted his would be assassin and then reversed the blade and drove the blade down this time, ripping the man’s abdomen open. Ross stepped back as he collapsed face first into the mud and watched him twitch and then still as he bled out into the ground. 

Once the man was dead, he frisked him but found nothing of import. He waited a few more moments until the bleeding was done and then picked the man up and shouldered his body. As he turned he saw a woman peering out a doorway at him. 

‘You saw nothing.’ His voice was threatening and she quickly disappeared inside. 

Ross took the man to the end of the dock and lobbed him into the rising tide. It would carry him a good way down the river and no-one would care to make enquiries as to the death of a man of such little importance. 

He made his way back to the house without incident this time. He let himself in and went directly to the kitchen. It was in darkness but the range was still burning. The hound was lying on a pile of blankets in front of it and she got up to come and sniff at his side. 

Ross stripped to the waist, hissing as he probed the cut on his side. It was thin but bleeding fairly profusely. He took his neck cloth and staunched the wound. It would seal, but in the meantime it hurt and he looked around for the brandy before emptying some onto the cloth and then gritting his teeth against the pain as he pressed it to his side. 

‘What the bloody hell ‘appened?’ Jud sounded appalled. He came through the doorway, and went straight to the kettle, filling it from the pump in the sink and then sticking it on to boil before adding more coal to the grate. 

‘I met a man and we had a disagreement.’ Ross sat down, watching thin trails of blood leak out from under the cloth. ‘It’s not deep so don’t worry too much.’

‘I’ll be the judge of that.’ Jud muttered and then came over to look. He tutted and took the cloth, folding it and pressing it firmly to Ross’ side. ‘It needs to be ‘arder.’ He took Ross’ hand and clamped it over the cloth. 

‘Still looking after me.’ Ross chuckled. 

‘Stabbin’s in the middle of the bleedin’ night.’ Jud grumbled. ‘Is this goin’ to become a habit?’ He picked up the now ruined waistcoat and gave Ross a look of pure disappointment. ‘One bloody day, Ross. You couldn’t stay out of trouble for one bloody day?’

‘It would seem not.’ Ross replied, pouring himself a glass of brandy.


	5. An Unfortunate Development

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ross gets very very annoyed.

A messenger came to the door of Nampara the next morning, bearing a letter for Ross which he refused to hand over unless it was to him directly. Jud left him to stand in the hallway while the hound peered at him from the parlour and stomped upstairs, muttering to himself at the boy’s stubbornness. He got to the stairs that led to the attic and went up. The door at the top was closed, but not locked and Jud went in and found the place no tidier than when Joshua had still been alive. 

The attic was huge and ran the length of the house with dormer windows spaced along the side that looked out over the river with an unobstructed view. It was filled with everything Joshua had collected from his travels around the world and bought back. There were artefacts and maps and stacks of books. At the far end was a huge wooden day bed and it was this Jud had made up rather than laying a mattress down on the floor as requested. He’d piled it with pillows, knowing how Ross had always wanted more pillows when he was a boy and had carried the love over into adulthood. 

He was now buried in them with the comforter pulled up to his ears and giving no sign of stirring as Jud approached the bed. Just the mop of near black curls was visible and Jud huffed and shook what he assumed was a shoulder. Ross made an annoyed sound and burrowed in further. 

‘Ross.’ Jud shook him again. ‘You’ve got a letter.’

‘And it couldn’t have waited until after breakfast?’ Ross grumbled. 

‘No.’ Jud put both hands on his hips. ‘The boy what brought it won’t ‘and it over. Not to me at least.’ 

‘God’s sake.’ Ross surfaced and peered at Jud over the edge of the bedclothes. ‘Who is the letter from?’

‘I didn’t bloody ask.’ Jud protested. ‘I came straight up here to get you out of bed.’ 

‘Well, I’m up.’ Ross threw the comforter and sheet back and got up. He slept naked and Jud tried not to boggle once again at the tattoos that now covered the length of both Ross’ arms and stretched across his back and chest as well. 

Ross found his shirt, still bloodstained, and pulled it on. He got up and followed Jud through the attic and downstairs to where the boy was waiting. The boy grinned as he took in Ross’ unkempt appearance and then scampered off when Jud showed him he back of his hand. 

Ross took the letter into the parlour and unstuck the seal and started reading the contents. The change in his expression stopped Jud in his tracks. Before he knew what was happening, Ross roared angrily and tore out of the parlour, the hound at his heels. Jud ran after him, getting to the bottom of the stairs where the hound had now stopped. She gave him a quizzical look, and then they both turned their attention back to the dark haired whirlwind currently mounting the stairs two at a time. 

‘Ross?’ he called up after him, watching his master vanish from sight around the corner. ‘What is it?’

‘A fucking problem!’ Ross bellowed back and there was the sound of a door slamming. 

‘Christ Almighty.’ Jud muttered and looked down at the hound, who whined at him. ‘He’ll be off in a minute. Come on girl, let’s go and get some breakfast.’

*********

Upstairs, Ross looked at the piece of parchment crumpled in his fist. He read the words again, rage boiling inside him like lava about to bubble over and scorch everything in its path. 

Even as he fought for control, the shadows grew in close. They oozed from every corner of the attic and with them they bought whispers. Ross shook his head violently, shutting his eyes and squeezing them shut against the intruders. When he opened them, the black was already bleeding in. 

‘Begone.’ He hissed it out through gritted teeth. The whispering intensified and Ross staggered and leaned against one of the support beams in the attic, warding off the shadows with his other hand. He drew on the power inside him and lashed out with it. There was a shriek and then the darkness withdrew enough that he could straighten up and look at the letter once more.

Ross,

You need to come to my offices immediately. Something has come up and it cannot wait to be attended to.

Trelawney

Ross had a sinking feeling in his stomach. He shouldn’t have been surprised. Joshua’s affairs had never run smoothly and it came as little surprise that his death was no exception to this. 

He went to the small table next to the couch Jud had made up for him. It was a carved piece from India, big enough for three people and he remembered that he and Grace had used to recline on it while Joshua worked in the attic. Those had been happier times and Ross had loved to hide in the rambling space, hiding until she found him. 

Now it served as his bed, the only place in that damned house he felt comfortable sleeping. 

Ross poured out a glass from water from the carafe and drank it off. Then he descended from the attic and went to get washed and dressed. 

********

Jud heard the sound of footsteps and poured the coffee. He’d already sent one of the dock boys for Bathsheba and he watched Ross come in. He was dressed in his clothes he’d arrived in, now washed and clean and pressed by Jud’s hand. He looked funereal in his grey shirt and black waistcoat, topped over with the coat of dense black cloth. 

He didn’t stop, just went to grab his coat and hat and stalked out without so much as a word. Jud and the hound watched him go and then looked at each other. 

‘Now ain’t that a thing.’ Jud rumbled. The hound whined and stuck her nose under his hand. 

********

Ross found a posse of small children all gathered around his mare and chased them off. They fled, giggling. 

He shook his head at them and mounted Bathsheba, barely settling into the saddle before he’d set his heels to her sides and taken off down the road like the devil himself was after him. He rode straight for Trelawney’s offices. To his surprise, there was a mob of men outside the office building and gathered in the yard, all shouting angrily. Then he saw Trelawney on the front step, hands up as he tried to pacify the men. 

‘Please, gentlemen!’ He sounded completely out of his depth. ‘I cannot attend to you all at once. Now if you will just…’

‘Bugger that, Trelawney!’ someone yelled from the crowd. ‘We know who you work for and Poldark was a miserly old bastard! Now give us our bloody money!’

Ross wasted no time. He rode Bathsheba right through the crowd and the mare squealed and laid her ears back, snapping at a few hands that got to close. Ross rode her between Trelawney and the baying men and raised his voice. His authoritative bark made them fall silent. 

‘Enough!’ he watched as they fell back, a look of collective shock on their faces. ‘You will get what is your due, but you will form an orderly queue!’ He held their eyes and they all seemed to have accepted what he’d said, starting to move into a line as they muttered amongst themselves. 

‘Thank you.’ Trelawney said. ‘It seems your father was not a man who liked to pay his debts.’

‘So it would seem.’ Ross dismounted and handed Bathsheba off to a clerk and then followed Trelawney inside. Trelawney lead him to the front room and beckoned to another clerk for tea. He had a strongbox waiting and gestured for Ross to take a seat. 

‘I am sorry about that.’ he said. 

‘You got me here to defuse a mob?’ Ross was now in an even worse temper. 

‘Not exactly.’ Trelawney replied. He put on his spectacles. ‘But it had been put on hold while we sort out the debts that need an immediate resolution. Unfortunately it was also the cause of that little scene outside. The men your father owed money to were not happy to be delayed.’ 

‘Delayed by what?’ Ross asked but Trelawney raised a hand as another man came in. 

‘Are you ready, sir?’ he asked and Trelawney nodded. 

‘Send the ravening hordes in.’ he replied. 

The next hour was taken up by man after man coming in, each of them with stories of non-payment and woe. Ross glared at each one in turn as he got more and more annoyed. They presented their ridiculous sums and it quickly changed into something far more realistic as his dark eyebrows drew down even further. Next to him Trelawney counted out the coins, the diamond Ross had given him now changed into cash, and paid every man his due until the list in front of him had every name scratched off and the final one was walking out the office, his pockets jingling and no doubt headed for the nearest pub. Ross watched closely and added the totals in his head, coming out with the correct sum.

‘Well that’s that.’ Trelawney declared, closing the strongbox. 

‘I am still waiting for the situation of gravest urgency that saw me nearly riding over half the dockland population to get here.’ Ross grumbled. Then he noticed that Trelawney was now looking at him very gravely indeed. 

‘I need your assurance you will not lose your temper, Ross.’ He sounded stern, his eyes sharp. 

‘What have you dug up, Trelawney.’ Ross demanded and then the door opened and a man walked in. 

Ross turned his head to look at the newcomer and was momentarily thrown by the look of him. It was very clear he was no tradesman or sailor. He was young, barely into his twenties by the look of him. His face was extraordinarily fair and surrounded by thick curls that were as golden as the sovereigns that Trelawney had been paying out. 

‘Ah, Mr Hawkins.’ Trelawney half rose to greet him. ‘This is Mr Poldark.’

‘Good day.’ Hawkins walked over and Ross got up as well, taking the outstretched hand and seeing that he was being regarded by light eyes that were scrutinising him closely.

‘You look just like Joshua.’

‘Not a greeting that will get you on my good side.’ Ross growled at him, more than a little shocked when he got a smile in return. It was dimpled and almost angelic and yet all his instincts were screaming at him to be well on his guard. He gave Hawkins’ attire a quick look and noticed that he was not dressed particularly well. His leather riding coat was bordering on shabby and his waistcoat was of faded grey velvet and worn over an unbleached linen shirt without a neck-cloth. The boots he wore were scuffed and Ross immediately recognised the signs of man who was not rich and used to living from hand to mouth. 

‘It is indeed fortuitous then that my claim is not dependent on being on your good side.’ His voice was clear and light and he met Ross’ eyes with no fear or any sign that he was intimidated in the slightest. 

‘Claim?’ Ross glared at Trelawney and saw that the lawyer now looked incredibly uncomfortable. ‘What the bloody hell is he talking about, Trelawney? We have paid all the debts.’

‘My claim is not exactly a debt.’ Hawkins was still smiling and it made Ross want to hit him. ‘It’s more like a bequest.’ His dimples quirked. ‘From your late father to myself.’

‘Why would my father have any reason to make you as bequest?’ Ross demanded. 

‘That is not up for discussion.’ Hawkins replied evenly. He took a folded piece of paper from inside his coat and handed it to Ross. ‘What is up for discussion is the fact that upon your father’s death, half his assets became mine.’ Now the angelic smile turned mercenary. ‘And I have come to collect.’ 

Ross stared at the document as if it might poison him. 

‘Trelawney.’ His voice was soft with repressed anger. ‘What the fucking hell is he talking about?’

‘We’ve checked it, Ross.’ Trelawney confirmed. ‘It’s all in order. Your father’s signature is on the document and Mr Hawkins is quiet correct in stating that he is entitled to half your father’s estate.’ His grey eyes were sympathetic. ‘I am sorry.’ 

‘Sorry?’ Ross hissed and then turned and threw the parchment back at Hawkins. ‘You bloody lying bastard!’ It was shouted with such ferocity that everyone in the room flinched.

All except Hawkins. His light eyes went steely and the smile disappeared as if by magic. 

‘Your father made me a promise.’ His voice was low and held a dangerous note. ‘I am simply claiming what is mine by right.’

‘What fucking right?’ Ross sneered. ‘The right of a whore?’ His face was a picture of fury. ‘Were you my father’s painted boy? You must have been with a face like that.’

‘He was my patron.’ Hawkins replied, still completely composed. ‘That was the extent of our relationship.’

‘Like hell it was!’ Ross threw Trelawney a poisonous look. ‘I will not stand here and entertain this madness. Deal with it!’ 

He stormed past Hawkins and out into the yard, barely stopping to put on his coat and hat before he got on Bathsheba and rode off in a clatter of hooves. 

*********

Inside the room, Jim had now moved to the window and was watching him depart. 

‘He has quite the temper.’ he remarked, not turning from the window. ‘He’s Joshua’s son all right. I had no idea how alike they were.’ 

‘More than he likes to believe.’ Trelawney replied as he continued to look over the document once more. ‘And that first meeting was not exactly successful.’

‘It seems that your assessment that this would be tricky to deal with was correct.’ Jim turned around and smiled. ‘He’s a very angry man.’

‘That he is.’ Trelawney said. ‘But he had a point. This will is going to be subjected to scrutiny and conclusions will be drawn.’ 

‘Let people think what they wish.’ Jim’s voice turned flat. ‘I was not Joshua’s whore. He appreciated my work and made provision for me in the hopes that I would continue to follow my calling.’

‘From my experience, acting and offering pleasurable company go hand in hand.’ Trelawney remarked and Jim snorted. 

‘I will leave this matter with you.’ He plucked the document from Trelawney’s hands. ‘But please inform Mr Poldark that I need a place to reside at present and will be bringing my things this evening.’ 

‘What?’ Trelawney was caught on the back foot. ‘You cannot…’

‘This says I can.’ Jim brandished the document like a weapon. ‘According to this, half the house is mine and I aim to be resident before the day is out. Ross Poldark can try to remove me if he wishes, but I think he’ll find that I will prove to be every bit as stubborn as he is rumoured to be.’

With that parting statement, Jim walked out and left Trelawney staring after him. He waited until the young man had left and then slumped down in his chair. 

‘Christ.’ He shook his head as one of his clerks approached with tea. ‘No, get me some bloody brandy for God’s sake. And find me Livesey. He should be back by now.’ 

He waited and soon both the brandy and his senior clerk appeared. 

‘Report.’ Trelawney instructed and Livesey took off his hat and took the offered seat. 

‘Not much to report, I’m afraid.’ He shook his head apologetically. ‘It seems that Mr Hawkins is attached to the Gouffe Theatre Company that is currently playing in one of the meaner places in Drury Lane. They have recently been in Paris and only returned the fortnight before according to the manager there.’ 

‘Wonderful.’ Trelawney rolled his eyes. ‘That will make Ross very happy to hear. Can we confirm his relationship with the late Joshua Poldark?’

‘Perhaps. I have people looking into it.’ Livesey sighed. ‘Apparently Mr Hawkins is a gifted actor and has been pulling in the crowds. He’s playing Puck in their version of a Midsummer Night’s Dream and his costume is rumoured to be quite scandalous.’

‘What else?’ Trelawney looked at Livesey and Livesey’s face grew sly. 

‘He’s right when he says that he is not a whore.’ He handed Trelawney a piece of paper. ‘He’s proud, the little bugger. He doesn’t sell his favours and he has no bad habits apart from choosing to be a member of a profession that guarantees poverty. He’s also not afraid of much. He got off the stage in a performance three nights ago and gave an audience member a thorough kicking for asking him to get his cock out.’ 

‘Sounds like a match engineered by the gods themselves.’ Trelawney couldn’t help chuckling. ‘This is going to be a very interesting battle of wills, Oliver.’ 

‘Yes, sir.’ Livesey replied with a grin. 

*********

Ross went straight home. 

He sent Bathsheba back and then stormed in through the front door in a rage such as he’d never experienced. 

‘JUD!’ It was loud enough to rattle the front windows. He went straight upstairs and to the attic. Once inside he began flinging things around, looking for anything that could shed light on what had just happened. A few minutes later, a very out of breath Jud appeared. 

‘What?’ He came over, looking a little worse for wear. ‘You damn near shouted the bleedin’ ‘ouse down.’

‘I have just been to see Trelawney.’ Ross flung a handful of papers on the floor. ‘It seems that the addled piss stain that was my father in his later days had a thing for boys and has made one a bequest.’ He turned blazing eyes on Jud. ‘You wouldn’t happen to know anything about this, would you?’

Jud shrugged. 

‘He had an eye for a pretty boy.’ He seemed nonplussed. ‘As for a bequest, I don’t know nothin’. Are you sure it’s real?’

‘Real enough by my eye.’ Ross growled and rifled through some things on one of the tables. ‘As was he. A pretty little thing. Fair hair, blue eyes. Looks like cocks wouldn’t melt in his mouth.’

‘Ah.’ Now Jud looked shifty and Ross turned on him immediately. 

‘What?’ he demanded. ‘What is that? What do you mean by ah?’

‘Your father had a number of interests outside this ‘ouse.’ Jud moved out of reach as a precautionary measure. Ross narrowed his eyes at him. 

‘Tell me.’ He stepped forward and Jud held up both hands. 

‘The boy was here a few times.’ he protested. ‘’E’s an actor and Joshua saw ‘im a couple of times and liked ‘im. But it were nothin’ like that. All they did was eat together and talk about the bloody theatre and Shakespeare and all that bleedin’ mush.’

‘So he wasn’t my father’s whore?’ Ross didn’t believe a word of it. ‘He just decided to give the boy half my fucking inheritance because he liked the way he spoke on stage.’ He snorted. ‘Pull the other one, Jud.’

‘It’s true.’ Jud protested. ‘At least from what I could see.’

‘Not that you could see much, old man.’ Ross huffed and put his hands on his hips. ‘A bloody actor?’

‘Yeah.’ Jud shrugged. ‘But ‘e seemed a nice young man. ‘E didn’t harass your father for money and only slept in the guest room when ‘e stayed here. Joshua tried to buy ‘im things on occasion and the boy always refused them. The only thing ‘e would accept were books.’

‘Books?’ Ross was astounded. ‘That’s bloody odd.’

‘I think ‘e was lonely, Ross.’ Jud’s voice was gentler. ‘Your father missed you. The boy was a way to make his nights a little shorter.’

‘He might not have been so lonely had he not created the circumstances.’ Ross snapped. He stopped his rifling and stared at what he’d just found. It was a small playbill for Romeo and Juliet to be held in a theatre in Drury Lane. ‘What was the company the boy was with?’

‘I don’t know.’ Jud ventured to look over his shoulder. ‘But they were in Drury Lane.’

Ross sighed as he scrutinised the poster, seeing the name Mr Hawkins written next to the character of Romeo. 

‘I’ll be dining out this evening.’ He announced and Jud frowned. 

‘Where are you going?’ he asked and Ross waved the playbill at him. 

‘To see what my competition is capable of.’ he replied. 

‘You’ll need something else to wear.’ Jud muttered as he stomped off. ‘And try not to get cut up this time. Blood’s a bastard to get out of velvet.’ 

Ross ignored him and went back to the playbill, making a note of the date. It was two years previously. He had no doubt that Jud was mistaken. The boy had been extremely attractive, even he’d been able to tell that. He had no doubt that, like many an attractive player, Hawkins was more than likely one of those that used his looks to supplement his income by selling his time to those that wished to get to know him a little better. It even amused him a little to think of his father still managing to get it up. 

‘I suppose even the devil deserves a little entertainment.’ He folded the playbill and put it in his pocket, grinning as a plan started to formulate in his mind.


	6. A Night at the Theatre

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ross and Dwight take in a play. Unfortunately they are not the only ones...

At the East India Company, things were just starting to get interesting. 

‘Tell me again.’ Warleggan sounded like he could scarcely believe what George had just told him. 

‘It’s true by all accounts.’ George was grinning madly. He’d paid a lot of money to get one of Trelawney’s clerks on side and now it seemed his efforts had borne fruit. ‘The old bugger had a kept boy.’

‘I find that quite…actually no. I don’t find that surprising at all.’ Warleggan rested his chin on his hand. ‘Joshua always was a perverted sort. Why else did he marry that Cornish bitch?’ 

He sounded bitter and George thanked his lucky stars that his father had seen sense when Grace Vennor had rejected his proposal and married his mother instead. There but for fortune intervening, he might have ended up as mad as her son certainly sounded. 

‘James Hawkins is an actor.’ He consulted the hastily written notes that had been passed to him. ‘He’s attached to the Gouffe Theatrical Company and currently of no fixed abode. They have just returned from a three month run in Europe and have spent the past two weeks putting on a production of a Midsummer Night’s Dream.’

‘Family?’ Warleggan asked and George shook his head. 

‘He’s an orphan from what we could establish, with both parents dying when he was only a small boy. His origins are murky but the clerk said he spoke with some trace of a West Country accent. He’s never been married and has no other family at all. Up until three years ago, there was no trace of him in England so we assume he was abroad.’ He sipped his wine. 

‘A man who has nothing and comes into money, or in this case property, will no doubt have more of an appreciation for cash.’ Warleggan said. ‘I do not see why Mr Hawkins would be an exception to this.’

‘It’s still only half.’ George replied. ‘And I doubt that Ross Poldark will sell us his share.’ 

‘Perhaps.’ Warleggan smiled. ‘But should anything happen to Ross Poldark, then as the legal co-inheritor James Hawkins would no doubt have a full claim and then we are back to where we were with Francis.’ 

‘What on earth would happen to him?’ George mused and then caught his father’s eye. ‘Oh, I see.’ 

Warleggan shook his head at him.

‘Be very thankful you have a father in a position of extreme power and privilege.’ Warleggan said dryly. ‘Lord knows how you would have managed otherwise.’

‘So what do we do?’ George asked, choosing to ignore his father’s pointed words.

‘We shall be taking in a play this evening.’ Warleggan replied. ‘But first I need you to find Unwin. I have an errand for him.’

George got up and started to leave the office, then turned back. 

‘He might not be that easy to be rid of.’ he said. ‘You forget the reputation he had in the cadets.’

‘That may be the case, but I have men who will deal with him quite admirably.’ Warleggan replied. He was now writing something down. ‘Unwin. Now.’

George left him and went in search of his father’s minion. Once he’d left, Warleggan sealed the letter and beckoned to the footman standing in the corner of his office and handed it over to him. 

‘Get a boy to take that.’ He waved the footman off and then sat back in his seat with a self-satisfied smile on his face.

**********

Ross mood had not improved by the time he needed to get washed and dressed for his evening’s activities. It didn’t help that he had to fall back on his father’s belongings for something suitable for an evening’s entertainment in London and he was now wearing some of Joshua’s things. His father’s tastes had been less sombre than his own and the waistcoat was a beautifully embroidered dove grey silk, the coat velvet once again but a deep shadowy blue grey this time. It set off his dark good looks, but Ross hated what he saw in the mirror. He hadn’t been in society for a very long time and wasn’t sure if he could still pass. 

He ran one hand through his hair, leaving it unmanaged in a small act of defiance, and went downstairs. Jud was bent over the stove grumbling. He gave Ross a look that told him clearly to stay out of trouble. It was one Ross was sadly very familiar with. 

He left the house and walked down the road as he pulled on his overcoat. The fog was setting in thick and cold, settling in drops on the brim of his hat. At the corner he hailed a carriage and directed the driver to take him to Covent Garden. 

Inside the carriage, Ross checked over his weaponry. He’d long since learned the value of carrying at least a few knives on his person. His primary weapon was the slender jambiya that he’d picked up in Arabia and it sat snugly under his waistcoat at the back. He had another in his left boot, a Sheffield made hunting knife with a broad blade that sat easily concealed but lethal nonetheless. He did not enjoy pistols, finding that they were useless for close quarters fighting when your opponent had learned to kill men with bladed weapons or throwing axes. The final touch was a set of brass knuckles in his coat pocket and a soft leather cudgel, easily folded and hidden and filled with lead shot, that he could use to disable an opponent. 

He looked out the window as they made their way through the City of London and then into the busier market district. The carriage dropped him at the door of Dwight’s rooms and he let himself in and went upstairs. He’d sent word earlier in the day inviting Dwight to join him and the answer had been in the affirmative. 

Dwight was in his performance room and seemed to be checking his inventory. He was dressed in shades of brown and green, looking shabby but genteel.

‘Ross.’ He gave him a broad smile. ‘Good evening.’

‘Evening.’ Ross walked to the bench and examined the equipment. ‘Did you have a profitable day?’

‘Not as much as I’d like.’ Dwight’s blue eyes were twinkling. ‘But I did have an interesting encounter with a flower seller come lunch time when I popped out for a bun.’ 

‘Indeed.’ Ross couldn’t help but smile. Dwight lifted his normally sour mood with his seemingly boundless exuberance. ‘Shall we?’

They walked to Drury Lane, Dwight’s head turning many a time as a pretty girl went past. The theatre was one of the smaller ones at the north end of the road and they paid their coin and ventured inside to take their seats. They stuck to the back, taking a box that gave Ross a clear view of the stage while still keeping them from being at the centre of attention, the theatre being particularly well-lit as was the custom. 

‘I love a bit of Shakespeare.’ Dwight rubbed his hands together. He looked meaningfully at a passing attendant and Ross grinned and signalled the young lady over. They ordered dinner and drink and she wandered off and they settled in to watch. She came back with a platter of some size stacked with cold chops and pasties and holding a bottle of wine. The preliminary entertainments were already begun, and they watched several musical numbers before the main production started. By the time they were ready to begin, the meal had been concluded and Ross and Dwight were on their second bottle. 

The opening scene began, the four players all attractive young people dressed in white drapery to signify they were in Athens and with boughs of greenery about their heads. Dwight consulted the playbill he’d bought and peered at the actress playing Hermia and made appreciative noises. 

‘She is lovely.’ He smiled. ‘I wonder what her charge might be.’ He waited for their serving girl to return with more drink and then spoke to her. ‘Tell me, young lady. The fair Hermia, is she available this evening after the performance?’ 

‘She could be.’ the serving girl replied. ‘I can asks her if you like.’ Her broad accent was pure fen. 

‘Please do and I shall put a coin in it for you if you are persuasive.’ Dwight winked at her. His enquiry did give Ross an idea and he addressed the girl himself. 

‘You have another in your company.’ He fixed her with a stern look. ‘Hawkins.’

‘Jim?’ the serving girl laughed. ‘Beggin’ your pardon sir. ‘E’s of your inclination, but ‘e don’t sell. I can point you out to him. If he finds you intriguin’ ‘e might let you see ‘im.’

‘He doesn’t partake?’ Ross asked and she shook her head. 

‘Like I said, ‘e don’t sell. Jim’s a bit of an uppity bitch if you take my meanin’.’ She was now grinning at them as she replaced their bottle and sauntered off with the empty one.

‘Now that is a surprise.’ Dwight said when she had left. ‘I certainly didn’t take you for one of those.’ He held up his hands to mollify Ross when he got glared at. ‘Live and let live, I say. If you are enamoured of buggery, far be it for me to judge.’ 

‘It’s not a question of buggery.’ Ross glowered. ‘The little fucker came to my lawyer today with a cock and bull story of how my father left him half his estate.’

‘Oh dearie me.’ Dwight was grinning madly. ‘Now that is an interesting development. The lass said he doesn’t sell, but maybe he barters.’ 

‘And that is what I aim to find out.’ Ross was now leaning on the edge of the box. ‘And to see just what kind of man I am dealing with.’ 

He barely watched the next scene, the play not really holding his interest. Instead, Ross scanned the crowd below them and then looked across to the boxes on the other side. What he saw made him frown. 

He’d last seen George Warleggan when they were both cadets of the East India Company. They had been acquaintances but not friends and when Joshua had still worked for the East India before striking out on his own, he’d had some choice words for Cary Warleggan. Breaking with them had only stirred the animosity into hatred and Joshua’s longstanding battle with the East India had begun in earnest. 

They looked as alike as he knew he and Joshua had, George simply a younger version of Cary. They had the same reptilian blue eyes and light brown hair, although Cary’s was now almost completely silver. They had their heads together and Ross frowned. He knew the Warleggans had no love of culture. Avarice and greed were their vices. It was enough stir his suspicions and he stared at them. He was so lost in his observations that he didn’t notice the scene change until Dwight nudged him in the ribs and nodded down at the stage.

‘Your boy has arrived.’ he pointed out and Ross looked down and saw the man he’d met earlier that day, although the transformation was remarkable. 

The costume was quite something. Hawkins wore trousers in dark green and soft boots tied around the lower legs. He had no shirt and his exposed skin was painted with green and gold greasepaint, which extended to his face and made him look like the ethereal creature he was supposed to be. There were two kid’s horns protruding from the mass of thick golden curls just above those light eyes that took in the audience before he delivered his first line in a clear voice that rang out around the space. 

‘How now, spirit! whither wander you?’ He addressed the actress dressed as a faerie that shared the stage with him and she went into her monologue. Ross watched Hawkins instead, then on instinct looked up.

The Warleggans were doing the same thing and that was when Ross had an epiphany. 

‘They know.’ he growled and Dwight looked at him in surprise.

‘Who knows what?’ he asked and Ross nodded at the Warleggans. 

‘Those two men are in the upper echelons of the East India Company.’ he replied. ‘And their presence here means they have no doubt heard about our mutual interest down there.’ He looked down at Jim, now striding about the stage as he performed his own monologue. Ross hated to admit it, but he had a very engaging presence. A grudging part of him was beginning to see the attraction his father might have had. 

‘Hang about.’ Dwight now looked concerned. ‘You did not mention that the East India was going to be involved.’

‘I thought that was obvious considering the fact that we are contemplating robbing their warehouse.’ Ross grinned at him. 

‘Christ.’ Dwight shook his head. ‘That was bad enough when I thought they would have no reason to suspect us. They know you?’

‘Unfortunately they do.’ Ross narrowed his eyes at the people across the theatre. ‘And they must know our Mr Hawkins too. I very much doubt that Cary and George Warleggan have come here by accident.’ He shook his head. ‘But how? They must have a spy in Trelawney’s offices.’

‘Who the devil is Trelawney?’ Dwight was looking more confused by the second. 

‘My lawyer.’ Ross replied as if that answered everything. 

On stage, the scene had changed again and now Hermia was back and lamenting with Lysander. Dwight immediately perked up. Ross, on the other hand, was plotting. He needed to get to Hawkins before the Warleggans did. He caught the eye of the serving girl and handed her a coin. 

‘Inform Mr Hawkins that he has caught my eye.’ he said to her. ‘I would like a private audience with him. After the show of course.’

‘Of course, sir.’ She took the coin and it disappeared into her apron. Then she gave him a knowing smile and scampered off. 

*********

Across the theatre hall, George was now staring at something. He laid a hand on his father’s arm and then gestured. 

‘There.’ he said. Warleggan followed his gaze and scowled. 

‘Christ.’ He was quick to anger and George saw that was the case now. ‘He’s here.’ 

‘Not a coincidence, surely.’ George replied. ‘What shall we do?’

‘We shall take matters into our own hands.’ Warleggan summoned the serving boy behind them. He gave him a coin. ‘Tell Mr Hawkins that we would like a private word with him after the show.’

‘Don’t know about that, sir.’ The boy looked unsure. ‘He don’t do extras.’ 

‘That is not why we wish to speak to him.’ Warleggan explained, getting impatient. ‘Tell him we have a business venture we wish to discuss that will be very much be to his advantage.’

The boy left them and Warleggan looked at George.

‘We need to convince him that he would be far better served doing business with us.’ he said. 

‘Let’s hope we’re in time.’ George was now staring across the theatre. Warleggan looked again to see Ross looking right at them. He raised his wine glass and the look he was directing at them was enough to curdle milk at twenty paces.

‘Fuck.’ Warleggan spat the curse. He glared back. ‘He looks just like the old bastard.’

*********

‘Is it wise to antagonise them?’ Dwight asked, pouring himself more wine for courage as he put it. He had designs on Hermia now that the girl had come back and confirmed that she was indeed available. 

‘Antagonism is the only thing the Company understands.’ Ross kept his eyes on the men across the way. ‘The moment this is done, I’m going down there to speak to Hawkins. I might need you to get in their way if that is their plan as well.’

‘I think I can manage that.’ Dwight chuckled. ‘Maybe you would like a riot? I could do that too.’

‘Might not be necessary.’ Ross grinned. ‘And that’s rather courageous talk from a man who was shitting himself not twenty minutes ago.’

‘Wine.’ Dwight raised his glass to him. ‘And if you aren’t afraid of them that can only mean it’s because you can defend yourself against them. And a man who is willing and able to take on the Company is a man whose side I wish to be on.’

Ross frowned and then grinned.

‘That makes sense, I suppose.’ He sat back and looked at the stage. ‘Let the best man win.’

Another two hours later and Jim came on stage for the final time. Ross had to grudgingly admit that he was a fine actor and that he’d enjoyed the performance in spite of himself. He’d enjoyed it even more when one of the audience members, who was a little drunker than most, had grabbed Hawkins' bare ankle while he was standing at the edge of the stage and Hawkins had taken the beer bottle from the man standing next to him and hit him over the head in retaliation. 

‘So, good night unto you all. Give me your hands, if we be friends, and Robin shall restore amends.’ He said the final words and bowed and the cheers went up. He did indeed seem to be very popular. The rest of the cast joined them and Ross got up. 

‘Now.’ he said to Dwight and they started to make their way through the crowds and towards the staircase down. There would be more performances after this one and everyone else was well on their way to be merrily drunk. 

‘We’ve been spotted.’ Dwight pointed and Ross looked to see that the Warleggans were also on the move. 

‘Time for that intervention.’ He shoved Dwight in their direction and took off through the crowd. He could not sight their serving girl and cast around for an alternative plan. He spotted one of the other servers going through a door behind the boxes and followed on instinct. He got to the door just as it was closing and then ducked inside. 

The corridor was lit only a by a single lantern suspended from the ceiling and Ross followed the sound of voices. He came to a split, one way going down a flight of stairs to what was presumably the kitchen judging from the smells emanating from it. 

The other way led off to the left and Ross could hear voices. He took that one and found himself in a maze of passageways which were chocked with bits of scenery and props. Half-dressed players were running around and mixing with the stagehands. A few watched him pass with looks of curiosity but he went unchallenged into he got to a row of doors. Scraps of paper were stuck to them, the names of the players identifying the dressing room’s occupants. He hunted until he found the one with the name he was looking for and then knocked. 

‘Come in.’ The voice was the same as the one that had addressed him so defiantly ion Trelawney’s office and Ross opened the door and stepped inside, making sure to close it after him. 

The dressing room was a mess. Every surface was cluttered with clothing and glasses and more books than Ross could believe fitted into such a confines space. There was a dressing table and mirror at one side, the top crammed with containers and candles that lit the room with a warm glow. Against the wall was a couch made up as a bed and he presumed this was where Hawkins slept. 

The man in question was standing watching him survey the room. He was still in costume, a glass of wine in one hand and his curls tumbled around his face, bare skin painted green and gold. He raised one eyebrow at Ross and took another drink. 

‘I wasn’t expecting you to call.’ He waved the glass at the room. ‘I would have cleaned up.’ The words were cutting.

‘I am not here for pleasure.’ Ross replied. ‘We have business to discuss.’

‘Discuss?’ Hawkins grinned. ‘Don’t you mean you’ll do your best into intimidating me into confessing that the will is a fraud or maybe you’re hoping to frighten me into giving up my claim?’ His blue-green eyes were sharp. ‘I should warn you, I do not take fright easily.’

‘Then perhaps you’ll listen to sense.’ Ross folded his arms and glowered at him. ‘This can lead to nothing but trouble for you. My father’s legacy is cursed in more ways than one.’

Hawkins laughed, white teeth flashing. 

‘He used to tell me about you.’ He drank again, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. The gesture made something catch in Ross’ chest, and then the anger was there. It pulsed dark red inside him. 

‘I can only imagine what he must have said.’ He bit back the rage at the thought of his father discussing his shortcomings with this impudent brat. 

‘That you were the most important thing to him and that he would forever regret the way you both left things.’ Hawkins moved to set the glass down. ‘Whatever you may have thought, you father regarded you kindly.’

‘Now I know you are lying.’ Ross retorted. ‘My father hated me and I hated him every bit as much.’ 

‘Your feelings on the matter are of no concern to me.’ Hawkins stated. ‘What I am interested in has already been presented to you and thrown back in my face.’ He folded his arms and met Ross’ eyes. ‘Not exactly an auspicious beginning to our partnership.’

‘Now that is where you are mistake.’ Ross replied. ‘There is no partnership between us. None to speak of. I will not see the things that are mine fall into hands outside of my family.’

‘You hate your family.’ Hawkins countered. ‘You could care less about the Poldark reputation or the company your father built. You’re in this for something else.’ 

‘Whatever my motives, they are none of your concern.’ Ross declared. ‘I am in a position, however, to buy out whatever share you’ve been given. I’m sure that enough money will settle things and then you can be done with all this nonsense.’ 

‘I don’t want money.’ Jim stated. ‘And I am assuming that Trelawney obviously hasn’t had the opportunity to present you with my terms.’

‘What terms could there be?’ Ross was at a loss. ‘Do you actually want half a crumbling house with a flooded cellar and a disease infested island in the middle of hostile territory?’ He shook his head in disbelief. ‘You’re starting to sound like you might be just as crazy as people said my father was.’ He couldn’t resist a grin. ‘Maybe you had more in common than I thought.’

‘You father was kind to me when I needed it.’ Hawkins had an odd look on his face. ‘And I returned the favour. You are wrong in your assumptions of me, but again that is not my concern.’

‘So what do you want?’ Ross asked. 

‘Well, for tonight I will settle for a place to stay.’ Jim replied. ‘I cannot stay here at the theatre indefinitely.’

‘At Nampara?’ Ross felt a surge of possessiveness. ‘I don’t think that’s a suitable place. Once you’re through the door you may get notions that you are welcome.’

‘Trust me when I say I am well aware of your thoughts on the matter and the fact that I am very unwelcome.’ Hawkins laughed. ‘But I need a place to reside and technically half the house is mine and you have a number of empty rooms so I am sure you’ll be able to spare one without too much trouble.’

‘And then what?’ Ross glared at him. ‘Half the house, half the island? How far are you willing to take this?’

‘As far as I need to.’ Hawkins folded his arms and looked every bit as stubborn. ‘Now either you agree to my terms, which are extremely reasonable in my opinion, or I have a conversation with the two Company men who have requested an audience with me. I am sure they will have a very interesting proposal for me and I would hate to get them involved and inconvenience everyone, especially yourself. I know your history with the Company is not a good one.’

‘You wouldn’t.’ Ross hissed and the dimples came back with a vengeance. 

‘Try me.’ Hawkins tilted his head ever so slightly. ‘I don’t bluff, Mr Poldark.’

‘Ross.’ Ross had no idea why he’d just said what he had but took the reins and ran with it. ‘If you’re going to be blackmailing me, we might as well be on a first name basis.’ He narrowed his eyes at the man he was addressing. ‘Jim.’

‘I am amenable to that.’ Jim grinned. ‘Ross.’

As if by divine providence, their staring match was interrupted by a knock at the dressing room door. 

‘Bloody hell.’ Ross muttered. Jim looked extremely smug.

‘That’ll be them now, I warrant.’ He folded his arms. ‘So what is it to be, Ross? My terms? Or shall I be forced to get into bed with the Company to get what I want?’

‘I could just kill you in your sleep and drop you off the nearest wharf.’ Ross threatened and now Jim laughed. He seemed extremely pleased with the turn of events. 

‘I’m not that easy to kill.’ He moved to pick up a dressing gown from the couch. ‘Tell them I am ready to see them on your way out, will you. I’ll meet you around at the stage door in about half an hour. Get a carriage. I have a few things that will need to be bought with me.’

Ross shot him a final glare and opened the door, only to find the Warleggans waiting on the other side. Their apparent shock cheered him up immeasurably and he inclined his head to them. 

‘Gentlemen.’ he said. ‘He awaits your presence.’

George and Warleggan looked utterly furious to see him and Ross pushed past them and strode down the corridor in the direction he’d come, smiling as he heard them muttering to each other as they went into the dressing room. He came back out into the still crowded theatre and found Dwight deep in conversation with Hermia. She was now wrapped in a dressing gown of the Oriental style and still had her vine wreath on. 

Ross tugged on Dwight’s arm as he passed. 

‘Come along.’ He ignored Dwight’s look of pleading outrage. ‘We have things to discuss and I have a cellar full of brandy at Nampara that I feel like making a dent in. You can bring her with if you like.’

‘Maybe later.’ Hermia winked at Dwight and disappeared back into the corridor. 

‘God’s balls.’ Dwight was grinning. ‘I need to make a return visit one night when you’re not so intent on conspiracy.’ He followed Ross with a look of reluctance on his face. ‘How did your meeting with the thespian go?’

‘He’s moving into my bloody house tonight.’ Ross muttered. 

‘Oh.’ Dwight was grinning. ‘That well, then?’

‘He’s threatening to make a deal with the Company if I don’t accept his terms.’ Ross stooped mid-stride and shook his finger in Dwight’s face. ‘That little bastard is hiding something. I want to know why the bloody hell he’s so interested in what I have.’

‘Well, having him under your roof makes it more likely you’ll discover it.’ Dwight pointed out. 

‘That’s the only reason I’m agreeing.’ Ross snorted. ‘That and I’ll be damned before I let the Warleggans get their hands on my island.’

‘What’s so bloody special about this island?’ Dwight asked, looking a little bemused. 

‘That is my secret to keep until I decide otherwise.’ Ross replied. ‘Come on, Jim’s meeting us outside the stage door and we need to get our prima-donna a carriage.’

‘Jim?’ Dwight grinned. ‘We’re on a first name basis now, are we?’

‘You are making an awful lot of remarks for a man about to commit high treason.’ Ross retorted and Dwight laughed. 

‘Makes life interesting, I suppose. Besides, I am a weak and foolish man with a love of indolence and the opportunity to blow things up.’ He slapped Ross on the shoulder. ‘And throwing my lot in with you ensures that I shall not die of boredom.’

‘No.’ Ross huffed a short laugh. ‘You may just die.’

‘Better than contracting the pox.’ Dwight said. ‘And I must admit that I am becoming more and more intrigued as to how this might play out.’

‘Then there is truly no hope for you.’ Ross chuckled as he held the door of the theatre open and ushered Dwight out onto the street. 

The stage door was down an alley way and Ross left Dwight to call a carriage and then went in search of his new houseguest. He found the door but there was no sign of Jim. He was just about to walk back to the street when there was the sound of something being dragged and the door was kicked open. 

Jim was now clean and dressed, although the vestigial light caught little sparkles of gold makeup still clinging to his hairline and cheeks. He was dressed as he had been earlier and dragging a trunk on considerable size. 

‘A little assistance would be appreciated.’ He gave Ross a pointed look. Ross glared back.

‘I am not a porter.’ he pointed out and Jim straightened up and cracked his back. Ross noticed that he was a good half head shorter than he was and yet he had pulled the thing all the way from inside which spoke of s physical strength that was belied by his appearance. Suspicion started to scratch at the back of his mind. 

‘Porter or not, I will need your help to carry it.’ Jim replied evenly. ‘Or you can call the man that was with you.’ He grinned. ‘The one that was in the box and who seems rather determined to get up Lucy’s skirts.’

‘Lucy?’ Ross frowned. ‘Oh, the Hermia.’

‘Yes.’ Jim went to the one end of the trunk. ‘Well?’

Ross huffed in annoyance and grasped the handle at his side and together they carried the trunk to the street. By the time they arrived, Ross was puffing. 

‘What the devil do you have in here?’ he demanded. ‘Bricks?’

‘The corpses of my enemies, actually.’ Jim was chuckling and Ross became convinced that hating him this soon was completely reasonable. 

Dwight was waiting with a carriage when they made it out of the alley and he nodded at Jim. 

‘Evening.’ He looked like he was thoroughly enjoying himself. ‘So you’re the man that has our mutual acquaintance in a hop.’

‘That’s good to know.’ Jim threw Ross an arch look. ‘I like to know I have made an impression.’

‘Not a favourable one, I assure you.’ Ross snapped. ‘Now let’s get this fucking thing in the carriage and be off before any other strays decide to attach themselves to me.’ He stomped over to the front to enlist the help of the driver and left the two of them alone. 

Dwight grinned and held out a hand.

‘Dwight Enys.’ he announced. ‘Chemist and co-conspirateur.’

‘Jim Hawkins.’ Jim shook it. ‘Actor and agent provocateur according to the man that currently wants nothing more than to murder me and throw me in the Thames if looks are anything to go by.’

The driver came back to help load the trunk onto the back and they climbed in once their task was complete. The driver re-took his seat, cracked his whip and the carriage rumbled off. 

It turned the corner, moving past another that was waiting in the shadows. The occupants had been watching the scene unfold with interest. 

‘Who do you think the other man is?’ George asked and Warleggan scowled.

‘I do not know, but by morning I will have found out.’ he replied and then tapped the roof with his cane, signalling it was time to move on.


	7. Strange Bedfellows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well, now he's moved in...

The carriage stopped outside the house and Ross got out without saying a word. He went to give the driver his fare and then stalked through the gates and to the front door. The ride to Wapping had been rather awkward. He and Jim had sat and glared at each other while Dwight had babbled on, clearly uncomfortable with the tension that had built to breaking point between them.

Behind him, he could hear Jim and Dwight wrestling with the trunk but he ignored them and went inside, leaving the door open. Jud was in the parlour, sitting in one of the old chairs with the dog at his feet. He looked up and peered at Ross through the spectacles which were clearly a new addition, and then lowered the book he was reading.

‘What is it?’ he asked.

‘We have a guest.’ Ross snorted as he went straight to the brandy on the table. ‘I need you to make up a room.’

‘Who?’ Jud laid the book down and got up.

‘Someone you’ll recognise.’ Ross drank down half the glass, the fiery burn doing nothing to soothe his temper.

‘Ross?’ Dwight’s voice filtered in through the front hall.

‘In here.’ he called and then filed up his glass again.

Jud frowned and then did a double take as the two men came in.

‘You.’ He stared at Jim and Jim smiled.

‘Jud.’ His dimples were out. ‘It’s good to see you’re still alive and that Ross hasn’t done away with you.’

‘He wouldn’t dare.’ Jud gave Ross a sidelong look. ‘Who do you think used to run around after the little bugger?’ He grinned and Ross wasn’t sure what he found to be most disturbing – the fact that Jud could actually smile or the fact that Jim had managed to make him smile. He added it to the quickly growing list of things that he disliked about him.

‘I think that you can put Jim in my father’s room.’ he said. ‘Seeing as it’s not being used.’

‘You didn’t take it?’ Jim laughed. ‘Why does that not surprise me?’

‘Wait.’ Jud now seemed to have caught up. ‘Why are you here?’ he looked at Ross for an explanation and Ross looked at Jim.

‘Mr Hawkins is making my life very difficult and insisting on living with us.’ He picked up the bottle of brandy. ‘Dwight, get a glass. We have things to discuss.’ He turned back to Jim. ‘And you are not bloody invited.’

‘I am perfectly content with not being invited.’ Jim retorted. ‘Don’t bother showing me up. I know the way.’

‘I’m sure you do.’ Ross sniped and walked past him. It was only once he and Dwight got to then stairs that Dwight started to chuckle.

‘Well now.’ He followed Ross up the stairs. ‘What exactly are we going to discuss?’

‘How to get our hands on the saltpetre you need.’ Ross replied as he led the way.

**********

Downstairs, Jud gave Jim a look.

‘I ‘ad to lie for you.’ he said, folding his arms. ‘Told ‘im you used to sleep in the guest room and that your evenings here were nothin’ but conversation. Christ knows what ‘ed think if ‘e knew the truth.’

‘You can tell him the truth for all I care.’ Jim replied. ‘I am not ashamed of my relationship with Joshua.’ He smiled. ‘Actors do thrive on scandal.’

‘Ross doesn’t believe it.’ Jud moved towards the kitchen and Jim followed him. He took a seat at the table as Jud filled the kettle and set it to boil. ‘When I told ‘im ‘e said to pull the other one.’

‘That’s because he’s no fool.’ Jim chewed on a nail. ‘He’s so much like Joshua it’s a little frightening.’

‘He’s different too.’ Jud was measuring tea into the pot. ‘I’m sorry I couldn’t get word. Not until it were too late.’

‘Don’t be.’ Jim sighed. ‘I’m sorry I left when I did. It was unfortunate but I needed to go. And Francis wouldn’t let me see him while he was in that house. He turned me away every time I tried to visit Joshua.’

‘You weren’t the only one.’ Jud sat down and poured the tea. He pushed Jim’s cup across to him. ‘The old bugger loved you.’

‘And he provided well for me.’ Jim replied, toying with the cup. ‘I just hope that the son will not prove too much of an impediment.’

‘If that’s your ‘ope, you’re going to be left wanting.’ Jud chuckled. ‘He’s as stubborn as the devil himself.’

‘That is something I am starting to realise.’ Jim glanced towards the ceiling.

**********

In the attic, they found the hound asleep on Ross’ bed. Dwight was now sitting and gentling her ears and she was melting under his hand.

‘Ah, fair lass.’ He looked at her mournfully. ‘If only all the woman I encountered were so enamoured of my touch.’ He looked at Ross who was now digging around again. ‘What’s her name?’

‘She hasn’t got one.’ Ross came up with a roll of parchment. ‘Here, look at this.’

‘Then what shall I call her?’ Dwight was rubbing the hound’s ears between his fingers and her eyes were blissful slits.

‘Black Dog?’ Ross suggested. He meant it as a joke but Dwight nodded.

‘It fits.’ He grinned at the hound. ‘Black Dog it is.’

‘Stop talking to the bloody dog, Dwight.’ Ross handed him the parchment. ‘Here. This is what all the fuss is about.’

Dwight took the parchment and unrolled it. Black Dog decided she did not like this state of affairs and laid her head in his lap and made eyes at him. Dwight peered at the map in the light of the lantern above his head and then looked at Ross.

‘So this is the island?’ he asked and Ross nodded.

‘It lies in a most fortuitous position.’ He grinned and refilled Dwight’s glass. ‘It lies directly on the route to the East. Anyone wishing to trade with the Chinese will be hard pushed to find a more direct route by sea. And once the borders are drawn, the country that controls that route controls the trade in and out of Asia and they will need a place for their ships to resupply.’

Dwight let out a low whistle.

‘Now I see why you are so invested in getting your hands on it.’ He looked up. ‘Where exactly does the gun powder fit in?’

‘The island itself is uninhabited.’ Ross explained. ‘If I wish to set up a trading post there and facilitate the transport of goods through it, I will need to trade. Gun powder is a very valuable commodity and will get me set up because everyone around there will be more than happy to get their hands on it. Including the Americans who currently control the sound itself. They will let us through if they have that.’

‘So it buys you passage?’ Dwight was now looking intrigued. ‘And you will be a friendly place for them to dock.’

‘It does and I will.’ Ross looked at him. ‘But first we need to set about getting ourselves organised. We need to find premises that are out of the way so you can get to work. I also need to find myself a ship. Once we’ve done that, there will be the question of how to get out hands on the ingredients you need. I have old friends I can call on, but I need to find them first.’

‘Are they men you can trust?’ Dwight asked as he handed the map back.

‘No, but they are men like yourself who become trustworthy for the right price.’ Ross grinned. ‘And I have the means to buy an awful lot of loyalty.’

‘What about Jim?’ Dwight asked. ‘He seems pretty set on keeping his half.’

‘I just need to find a way to persuade him to sell it to me.’ Ross replied. ‘He’s an actor, for Christ’s sake. He’s probably never even been out of the city before. I very much doubt that all this bravado is because he wishes to sail halfway around the world and live in the bush in what will no doubt be less than rudimentary conditions.’

Dwight chuckled and leaned forward to clink his glass against Ross’.

‘Here’s to conspiracies.’ he said and they both drank.

***********

Jim opened the door to Joshua’s bedroom and went inside. It hadn’t changed from the last time he’d been there eight months previously.

He dragged the trunk the last bit of the way in and to the foot of the bed. Then he went and closed the door and locked it from the inside. The last thing he needed was Ross bursting in and seeing what he was up to.

He used the candle he was holding to light the lamps. Jud had offered to light the fire but Jim had refused and he now did it himself. The kindling went up quickly and the wood caught and soon it was blazing away and casting a warm glow throughout the room.

Jim looked around the room. The last time he’d been in it he’d had very little sleep. Joshua had been extremely virile for a man his age, something that Jim had found more than a little irresistible. He’d left for Edinburgh the following day, his company never staying long in one place which suited his circumstances perfectly.

When he’d returned, he’d found Joshua moved into the house of his step-daughter and nephew and they had refused all his attempts to see him.

It had concerned him. Jim was under no illusions as to his relationship with the elder Poldark. He’d been a pretty diversion to Joshua, an amusing companion who was happy to listen to his stories or let himself be fucked by turn, depending on what Joshua’s mood had been. Of late it had been melancholy and that was when Jim had come to call and found that Joshua had a document waiting for him.

Jim had been strangely touched by the gesture. He’d not set out to seduce the old man for what he could get out of it. He’d genuinely enjoyed their time together and refused all offers of money out of principle. This, however, he’d been willing to accept. It dovetailed very nicely in with his plans.

He’d not been expecting Ross Poldark to turn up. Nobody had, by all accounts. Jim had been hoping it would be a case of no heir coming to claim the assets Joshua had left behind and so he’d be able to stake his claim to all of it.

But then he’d heard that the funeral had been gate-crashed by an unexpected arrival and that had been enough to prompt him to stand at the back of the probate hearing, completely unobserved. He’d been impressed by the way Ross had dealt with Francis and amused by the exchange of words between them. He hadn’t been expecting an easy ride when he’d gone to Trelawney’s offices but he’d not been expecting the level of hostility he’d got.

Ross was quite something in anger. Jim knew he would be lying if he’d said his heart hadn’t beaten just a little bit faster after their encounter. He wasn’t here for that though. He had plans and as much as Ross Poldark’s dark eyes and reckless temper intrigued him, Jim had things he needed to do.

He unlocked the trunk with the key he kept around his neck and threw back the lid. It held everything he owned – clothes and books and scripts. There was a tray in the top that he took out and placed on the bed and then he dug down the side of his clothing and took out a flintlock pistol. Another dig brought out a dirk which he laid next to the pistol on the bed.

Jim replaced the tray and closed the trunk. He took the pistol and dirk and placed them close at hand and undressed for bed.

***********

‘We will need to be clever about it.’ Ross was striding back and forth as he spoke, drinking and waving around his free hand. Dwight was now reclining on the couch with Black Dog. ‘I have the name of someone who will help us, but we will need to set up a meeting.’

‘Really?’ Dwight frowned. ‘Who?’

‘A spy, Dwight.’ Ross grinned. ‘For the Americans.’

‘Really?’ Dwight sat up and grinned. ‘Who is he?’

‘Not telling.’ Ross chuckled. ‘Not yet at any rate. I need to make contact first. That’s going to be the tricky part. I haven’t been in town long. Wangling an invitation when you’ve only just come back into society is not an easy thing.’

‘You could always just show up.’ Dwight suggested. ‘Pretend like you are supposed to be there.’

‘I could.’ Ross sighed. ‘Or I could try getting in through my step-sister. She might know the person I am after.’ He looked thoughtful. ‘Yes, that might well be a better option.’

‘And then?’ Dwight asked. ‘We steal the saltpetre, make the gun powder and sail away?’

‘If you wish to join me on this little fool’s errand.’ Ross grinned. ‘I could use a man of your talents.’

‘Will it be profitable?’ Dwight asked.

‘Extremely.’ Ross laughed. ‘You’ll be able to buy all the pleasurable company you wish. Besides, I hate to point out the obvious but you are now in it up to your eyeballs.’

‘True.’ Dwight drained his glass. ‘I also need to piss.’

‘Over there.’ Ross waved a hand at the corner. Dwight stumbled off in search of the chamber pot and there was the sound of steady stream of urine hitting porcelain.

‘So what is your plan for taking the warehouse?’ he called and Ross refilled their glasses. The bottle was almost empty and he looked at Black Dog.

‘Go tell Jud we need more brandy.’ he instructed. Black Dog regarded him and then curled up and stuck her nose in her arse. Ross shook his head at her and then went to the door of the attic. He leaned down the stairs and yelled for more brandy then came back. Dwight had returned and was now back on the couch.

‘So, you were about to explain to me how we are to break into the Company warehouse, steal the saltpetre and turn it into the commodity we need.’ he said. ‘We shall also need a place where we can do that in absolute privacy. I don’t need to tell you what would happen to us should we be caught.’

‘We’ll need premises outside the city.’ Ross sat down and leaned his elbows on his knees. ‘I shall be looking for somewhere we can be far away from anyone that might alert the Company to what we are doing.’

‘Good idea.’ Dwight yawned expansively. ‘In fact, I may know of the very place.’

‘Really?’ Ross drank. ‘Where might that be?’

‘You’ll need a place with water.’ Dwight explained. ‘And I just so happen to know of a mill that has been long since abandoned. It’s out of the way and I use it for my more, shall we say, explosive experiments.’

‘Then you shall have to show me.’ Ross leaned back in his chair. ‘Perhaps tomorrow?’

‘Perhaps.’ Dwight smiled. ‘But I shall be charging you rent.’

‘I wouldn’t expect anything different.’ Ross chuckled into his glass. ‘So, we now have a place to do what is needed. What do I need to procure for you?’

‘I’ll need meal powder and sulphur.’ Dwight replied. ‘The best meal is from alder wood, but buckthorn will also do. If you can get the wood, we can produce the charcoal at the mill and I shall also be able to grind it myself. For twenty barrels I would say we need about four hundred and sixty pounds of the stuff, so we’ll need to get enough wood to produce that much.’ He put his glass down next to the couch and put his hands behind his head as he calculated. ‘We’ll also need about three hundred and six pounds of sulphur, but I can manage that easily enough if you provide the finance.’

‘Here.’ Ross got up and went to the table across from them. He came back with a small bag of coins which he tossed to Dwight. ‘That should prove sufficient.’

‘Indeed it should.’ Dwight said. He sat up and drained his glass. ‘Now I must be off. The lovely Hermia expected me these two hours past.’

‘I am sure she’ll still be waiting.’ Ross assured him. ‘You can find your way out?’

‘I can.’ Dwight got up and wavered as he moved past a little unsteadily. ‘I’ll get to work in the morning.’

‘Try not to spend all of it in one place.’ Ross called after him and got a wave of Dwight’s hand. He disappeared down the stairs and Ross heard him accost Jud, who was obviously bringing up the brandy. He grinned, knowing that Dwight would no doubt relieve Jud of his burden and take the bottle with him.

Sure enough, Jud did not appear. Ross decided that he’d had enough and drained his glass. The brandy had warmed him through and he got up and relieved himself before getting rid of his boots and trousers, his waistcoat having long since been discarded.

He left his shirt on, the night having drawn in a little, and then went to the window and looked out. The moonlight was glittering off the Thames and the lights of ships anchored just off the shore twinkled. It looked positively peaceful but Ross knew better.

He went to blow out the lantern and then climbed into bed, lying there for a moment as he thought about what to do with his most unwelcome guest.

Jim was clearly not going to be fobbed off with mere payment. Ross was extremely curious as to what he thought he was getting. One possibility would be to offer Jim his half of Nampara. After all, Ross wouldn’t need the house once he’d left and embarked on his voyage to his new life. He also had no love for his family home and it would irk Francis to know it had landed in Jim’s hands and irking Francis was something that pleased Ross enormously.

The more he thought about it, the better the idea seemed. Jim would no doubt jump at the chance to have such a valuable asset and it would mean having the island in his possession. He could even throw in all the effects to sweeten the deal. That was bound to make Jim happy and give up any claim to the island. In fact, Ross was willing to bet that was probably what he was after.

Feeling pleased with himself, Ross turned so he could see the light coming in through the window and then drifted off into slumber with Black Dog curled into the back of his knees.

********

In the bedroom below, Jim sat cross legged on the bed and looked at the papers that surrounded him.

The maps had been drawn in a fine hand and he studied them all. They were tracings of the Pacific coastline and that of East Asia. The one that held his interest most was the one that showed an island, long and possessed of many natural harbours. Joshua’s handwriting ran along the bottom.

_Nampara Island - length approx. 22 miles, width approx. 17 miles._

Jim smiled to himself. It amused him that Joshua had named the place after the house he was now sitting in. What amused him even more was that the man upstairs, who he had heard stomping around until Dwight had left, had not the faintest idea what Jim was or why he was interested in that particular piece of land sitting all by itself out in the Pacific.

Jim leaned forward and picked up a package of oiled silk, removing the carefully folded piece of paper inside. He unfolded it and laid it down in front of him, his eyes reading the words inscribed in black copperplate writing.

_Be it known, that in pursuance of an act of congress, passed on the twenty-first day of June – one thousand, eight hundred and twelve, I have commissioned, and by these presents do commission, the private armed brig called the Hispaniola of the burden of one hundred and forty four tons, or thereabouts, mounting twelve carriage guns, and navigated by fifty-five men, hereby authorising John Silver captain, and James Hawkins lieutenant of the said brig and the other officers and crew thereof to subdue, seize and take any armed or unarmed British vessel, public or private, which shall be found within the jurisdictional limits of the United States, or elsewhere on the high seas._

Jim studied the letter of marque carefully, tracing the words with his fingers. It had been three long years, but now he was in striking distance of getting everything back and he was not about to let Ross Poldark bugger things up.

He refolded the letter and replaced it in its protective package before getting up and stowing it inside the lining of the trunk where it had been concealed. Then he climbed into bed and blew out the light.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those who are interested, a letter of marque was given by governments of countries at war that basically allowed ships to take part in legalised piracy. And yes, that means Jim is technically a pirate *cackles* Ross is in for a bit of a surprise.


	8. An Offer On The Table

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A summons by the Company...

Morning came with a hangover and the realisation that something needed to be done.

Ross lay and stared at the ceiling, one arm resting on his forehead. He was still contemplating giving the house away to Jim and what a marvellous solution it would be. He’d be free of anything in London and Jim would be out of his life without calling attention to the fact that Ross was going away to get heavily involved in treasonous activities. 

He listened to the empty house, closing his eyes and letting the memories wash over him. The final one was not happy, he and Joshua standing and facing off in the parlour while Elizabeth’s mother and Jud watched them. Elizabeth had been upstairs, her mother’s handprint still livid on her face. 

They knew they had to be careful, but there had been a recklessness in both of them. When they had finally been caught, it had been a relief. But that had been before the raging argument that had seen Ross taking his coat and hat and all he stood up in and leaving that very night. 

What Joshua never knew, was that he’d gone straight to the Company. It had been the one place Ross had known Joshua would never look for him and the one thing he knew his father would never forgive. Ross had been in a mood to set fire to his life and he’d done it rather spectacularly. The next day had seen him on a ship bound for Africa and from there his life had taken such a bizarre twist, he would forever be at a loss as to explain how it all happened. 

Africa had been a place of darkness and mystery. Circumstances had seen their ship put in at port and then undergo a change of registration as it picked up a cargo that was illegal and immoral and Ross had gone along with it because he’d been young and angry. Now it haunted him in a quite literal sense. 

He had discovered that he wasn’t quite as ready to die for their cause as he’d thought he was. 

He heaved a sigh and sat up, rubbing his eyes with the heel of his hand. His mouth felt dry and Ross scouted around for the carafe of water Jud normally left in reach, but there was none this time. He huffed in annoyance and got up, stumbling over his own feet to find trousers and then gave up. 

He went downstairs, head now pounding from too much brandy. At the landing he saw that the door to Joshua’s room was ajar. Overcome with curiosity he peered in. The bed was unmade and he saw that Jim had put the trunk at the foot of the bed. Nothing else in the room was out of place.

The sound of movement downstairs caught his attention and Ross followed it down and into the kitchen. He found the range lit and the kettle on and pot of oats set to boil. He wrinkled his nose as he looked into it and then realised that Jud must be outside. He went to the back door that overlooked the stables and the coach house. Jud kept a few hens back there and he was obviously out feeding them and collecting the eggs for breakfast. 

What he saw was not what he expected. There was a hand pump in the back yard and it was now in full flow. Ross stopped dead and watched as Jim straightened up from under it. He was shirtless again, but this time his skin was no longer hidden under paint and what Ross saw made him stare. 

Jim was tanned, something that surprised him. He was also far more muscular than Ross had first ascertained and there was a funny flash of heat in his chest as he watched Jim shake the water from his hair. He dragged his fingers through it and then seemed to feel Ross’ eyes on him and turned to look at him. The sun hit him full in the face, turning his light eyes luminous and his hair bright gold. 

‘Good morning.’ He sounded wary. 

Ross didn’t answer, just gave him a curt nod and then retreated inside the kitchen. He nearly walked straight into Jud who had come in from the front hall with a couple of letters in his hand.

‘A boy bought ‘em.’ he said by way of explanation, holding one back when Ross reached for both. ‘Not that one. It’s for Jim.’

‘Jim?’ Ross frowned. ‘Who even bloody knows he’s here.’ Then he turned the letter over and looked at the seal and the frown turned into a scowl. ‘It’s from the fucking Company.’

Jud tutted at his language and went to the back door. Jim was just coming in and he handed him the letter. 

‘What is it?’ he asked and Jud threw Ross a glance. 

‘Ask ‘im.’ he muttered and went out into the yard. Jim looked at the letter and then saw the seal. He grinned, dimples flickering.

‘That didn’t take long.’ he said, sounding very amused by the whole thing. 

‘No.’ Ross ripped the seal open and read the letter, crumpling in in a fist and then hurling it into the range. ‘Well, it would seem we’ve been duly summoned.’

‘So it would.’ Jim was looking at his letter thoughtfully. ‘I’m sensing an attempt to divide and conquer if you’ll forgive the military metaphor.’

‘Well?’ Ross was sharp. ‘What are you intending to tell them?’

‘That I own half of Nampara Island.’ Jim’s smile was all teeth. ‘And that I already have a business partner and so am not in the market for another.’ 

‘We need to discuss that particular matter.’ Ross growled at him, sweeping past. ‘I’m going to get dressed.’

Upstairs he washed and cursed his way into clean clothes. When he came back down, Jim was also dressed and his damp curls had been pulled back and tied. He looked like one of the sailors that frequented the docks. 

‘Ready?’ He didn’t wait for Jim to keep up with him and was a little annoyed when he found that he was. 

They went to the ostler and Ross was astonished to find that his mare was waiting for him when they arrived. She was standing with another horse, a heavyset blue roan stallion that he had never seen before. Jim wasted no time, taking the roan's reins and mounting up. He looked completely comfortable atop his horse and gave Ross an expectant look. 

‘Come on, then.’ He turned his mount’s head. ‘Let’s not keep the Company waiting.’ 

Ross was left scrabbling to get on Bathesheba’s back, narrowly missing a well-timed bite. He gave her a kick in the flanks in retaliation and she clattered out after Jim’s stallion, fighting him every step of the way. He brought her in line next to Jim and looked suspiciously at the stallion. 

‘He’s yours?’ he asked. 

‘He is.’ Jim leaned forward and patted the horse’s neck affectionately. ‘I usually stable him down at a house on Drury but had him brought down last night.’ He gave Ross a sidelong grin. ‘I thought it would be prudent to have some means of getting around and Gunpowder does the job quite nicely.’

‘Gunpowder?’ Now Ross had to laugh. This was all becoming rather ridiculous.

‘Yes.’ Jim narrowed his eyes at him. ‘You find that funny?’

‘A little.’ Ross shot back and then proceeded to ignore Jim for the rest of the ride. 

They came to Company House, its imposing façade in white marble unmistakable and taking up most of the street. Two attendants held their horses as they dismounted and then made their way inside. They gave their names to a clerk and he scuttled off. Jim stood and looked around him. 

‘It’s all rather impressive.’ He grinned at Ross. ‘But I believe you are familiar with the Company.’

‘Who I am familiar with is none of your concern.’ Ross sniped and then turned as a clerk approached them. 

‘Mr Warleggan will see you now. He awaits you in the board room.’ he informed them and Ross snorted.

‘Of course he will.’ He didn’t wait for Jim to follow as he strode past the clerk and left him in his wake. He knew the way to the room in question and smiled as the clerk scrambled to get ahead of him. He increased his pace, outrunning the clerk on his long legs and entering the room before he could be announced. 

They were all gathered there, faces from his past staring at him as he came in and took a seat uninvited. The only new addition was George, who was standing in the corner. The clerk came in a few seconds later and the venomous look thrown at him by Warleggan was enough to make Ross smirk. To make matters worse for the poor man, Jim sauntered in a few minutes later like he had all the time in the world. He came and took the seat next to Ross and leaned on one elbow, his face a picture of innocence. Ross had to admit he was impressed by his insouciance and its obvious effect on the Company men as they regarded him. 

‘Gentlemen.’ He fixed them with a stern look. ‘You asked us to come. Is anyone going to inform us as to why?’

‘Well, so much for pleasantries.’ Warleggan’s lips were pressed into a thin line. There was a fleeting look between him and George. ‘Very well, let us turn to more pressing matters. We have asked you both to come here to discuss a certain property that has now passed into your possession. A property that was the subject of negotiations with your cousin Francis Poldark, who had agreed to sell this property to the East India Company.’

‘I am aware of that.’ Ross replied. ‘What I would like to know is just how you had knowledge of Mr Hawkins’ involvement in the matter or how you knew that he is currently residing at Nampara.’

‘Simple.’ Warleggan replied, with a ghost of a smile that was anything but amused. ‘The Company has its agents everywhere and you have not been very discreet in your movements.’ The smile sharpened. ‘The agreement between ourselves and Mr Poldark was that once he inherited Nampara Island, he would sell it to us. We had a gentlemen’s agreement with him.’

‘And what exactly does that have to do with us?’ Jim asked and his smile matched Warleggan’s in its menace. ‘Seeing as how neither myself or Mr Poldark are gentlemen or subject to any agreement that Francis might have made with yourselves.’

‘We were hoping to come to a similar negotiation with you as to the ownership of the island.’ This was from another of the men seated around the table. ‘That you would honour your cousin’s word.’

‘My cousin’s word is worth nothing and the island does not belong to him.’ Ross pointed out. ‘And while I cannot speak for Mr Hawkins, my half is most definitely not for sale.’  
‘Neither is mine.’ Jim added. 

That did not please their audience. There was muttering and several heads came together as all eyes turned to Warleggan. He said nothing and the man who’s spoken interjected.  
‘The deal was done.’ He sounded like he was trying to keep his temper in check. ‘You must see reason in this matter.’

Warleggan glared at him and made a slight gesture and the man fell silent. He turned his pale eyes on Ross.

‘Ross.’ His tone was perfectly measured. ‘What my esteemed colleague is trying to say is that the Company is prepared to compensate you both financially for the purchase of Nampara Island, and very handsomely so. We are even prepared to offer you double what we offered Francis, in order to make sure that you both receive a fair price.’

Ross looked to his left and met Jim’s eyes. There was a slight smile playing about Jim’s mouth and he realised that they were both playing the same game. That gave him a funny sense of fellowship and he turned back. 

‘How much exactly were you thinking?’ he asked and Warleggan raised one eyebrow. He beckoned to George and George walked around and handed Ross a piece of paper. Ross took it and unfolded it, glancing at the figure that was written on the deed of sale. He passed it to Jim and Jim did the same and then placed it on the table in front of him. 

‘Is this the final offer?’ he asked. Ross grinned. Jim’s affable tone had changed and now he sounded like he was suitably unimpressed. 

‘It does not have to be.’ Warleggan replied evenly. ‘But that would depend on your cooperation in this matter. We feel that particular figure is not only above market value, but also one you will not get anywhere else, especially for a piece of land such as that one which is considered to be uninhabitable. There are rumours that the last time a colony was established that the entire company of men, woman and children all disappeared.’ 

‘Really?’ Ross affected an air of nonchalance. ‘In that case why is the Company so interested in buying it?’

‘No doubt for the same reason you think it would be wise to try and establish a trading post there.’ Warleggan replied. ‘But I should tell you that it will be far more difficult than you anticipate. As a business opportunity it will only work with the power of the company behind it. We have more to put into it than yourselves. It will be very difficult to make a go of things with your limited resources.’ He looked at Ross steadily. ‘Your would-be business partner is an actor. He has no experience in these matters at all. As for yourself, you would simply not make it through the American blockade without providing them with something they need and I doubt very much that you would have anything they would want. It is simply unfeasible.’ He nodded at the paper on the table. ‘With that much money you would not have to worry for your future and could live comfortably for the rest of your days.’ 

‘That’s the thing.’ Ross sat back and folded his arms. ‘I don’t particularly value living comfortably.’ He looked at Jim. ‘What about you?’

‘Well, I’m only an actor.’ Jim was giving Warleggan a look that spoke volumes. ‘But even I know that when the Company is seemingly desperate to get their hands on something, only a fool would take their first offer.’

‘In that case, it would seem we are in agreement.’ Ross picked up the paper and very deliberately tore it in half and threw the pieces onto the table. ‘So I would suggest you do not insult us. Nampara Island is not for sale. Not for any price.’ He got up. ‘Good day to you.’ He looked at Jim and Jim smiled and got up.

‘Gentlemen.’ He inclined his head to them and walked out with Ross. They kept going, not stopping until they were back in the reception hall and coming out into the sunshine. That was when Ross stopped him, putting a hand on Jim’s arm. 

‘This changes nothing.’ he cautioned. ‘We might be in agreement as far as the Company is concerned, but have no fear that I am going to be the sole owner of Nampara Island.’  
‘There is nothing you can offer me which will prove to be better than what they can.’ Jim shot back. ‘I am in no mood to bargain with you, Ross.’ He took the reins of his horse as the attendant brought them back to them. ‘That island is half mine and it’s going to stay that way.’

‘But why?’ Ross narrowed his eyes at him. ‘I don’t understand your interest in this.’

‘My interests are my own.’ Jim climbed up and settled into the saddle. ‘So you’re going to have to get used to it.’

‘Bollocks to that.’ Ross snapped, mounting up. ‘I work alone.’

‘Not this time.’ Jim kicked Gunpowder into a trot. ‘And I might prove a lot more useful than you think.’

Ross scoffed at him. 

‘If you think swanning about on stage in any way prepares you for what lies out there in the New World, you are sadly mistaken.’ He rode Bathsheba in line next to Jim. ‘There are people out there who would gladly kill you for the sake of a handful of coins and now that you have thrown your lot in with me, that goes double I am sure.’

‘I can take care of myself, Ross.’ Jim replied, not seeming concerned in the slightest. ‘And do not presume to know the limits of my experience.’

‘And what is that supposed to mean?’ Ross glanced at him. 

‘That maybe you should have more faith in your new business associate.’ Jim laughed. ‘Now, I would like to see what else I have a half share in. Joshua did tell me about the offices in the Isle. I would like to see them.’

‘Now?’ Ross frowned. ‘Very well. I have business there as it would happen.’

They rode through the city until, they got to the stretch of docks where the Poldark Trading Company offices were. At the warehouse, they dismounted and approached the building and Ross scowled as he saw that little seemed to have changed from his last visit, if the three whores plying their trade outside was an indication. Overcome with anger at having been so blatantly disobeyed, he strode through the open doors and through the whores and beds until he could climb the stairs to the mezzanine. 

At the top he found Mary lying on a couch, a bone pipe between her fingers. She turned glazed eyes on him and then started in surprise. She sat up and tried to move away but Ross was in no mood to be thwarted and he grabbed her by the arm and threw her against the wall. 

‘You were warned.’ he hissed in her face and she struggled to get out of his grasp.

‘It was too short a time.’ she protested. ‘And you…’

‘What?’ Ross shook her. ‘Surprised I am still alive after sending your man after me?’

‘She told you.’ Mary spat. ‘That little bitch.’

‘You are lucky she did.’ Ross tightened his grip. ‘And as payment for her warning, I will not kill her mother though you sorely deserve it.’ 

‘Ross!’ Jim’s voice cut through the anger and Ross looked at him. He was standing there watching the exchange. 

‘Jim?’ The astonishment in Mary’s voice was enough to jolt Ross out of his rage. ‘What the bloody hell are you doing here?’

‘Business.’ Jim replied, still looking pointedly at Ross. ‘Now, let her go, Ross. This will solve nothing.’

‘You know each other?’ Ross was momentarily confused, then shook it off. ‘I should have known I had landed in a conspiracy.’

‘The only conspiracy here is in your head.’ Jim retorted. ‘And yes, we know each other. Mary’s last husband was a good friend of mine.’ 

‘I didn’t know you were back in London.’ Mary shoved Ross’ hands away. ‘What business have you here?’

‘This one.’ Jim was looking around him. ‘You have been busy it would seem.’

‘Exactly.’ Ross glared at Mary. ‘I warned you to be gone by yesterday. I can only assume that my failure to appear made you think that your attempt on my life had been successful.’

‘And attempt on your life?’ Jim frowned and looked at Mary. ‘Is that true?’

Mary said nothing, her green eyes defiant. Jim looked from her to Ross. 

‘Let me handle this.’ His words took Ross by surprise. 

‘I fail to see what you can do.’ he snorted, but he stepped back. Mary straightened her shawl about her shoulders and glared at him. 

‘You have no right to put your hands on me.’ she hissed. 

‘And you have no right to be here.’ Ross snapped. ‘Be thankful I didn’t snap your worthless neck.’

‘He has a point, Mary.’ Jim stepped forward and Ross noticed with some surprise that Mary took a step back from him, her face now wary. ‘You are trespassing. Now Ross said you were supposed to be out by yesterday?’

‘We have nowhere else to go.’ Mary protested. ‘I have twelve girls here. They will rehousing.’

‘That is not my concern.’ Ross started and then stepped back again when Jim shot him a stern look that had the most unexpected result of making him retreat. Jim turned back to Mary. 

‘By tonight.’ he instructed. ‘Or I am going to get involved.’

‘You wouldn’t.’ Mary’s vice had dropped, the brazenness gone in a flash. ‘This is none of your business.’

‘I am now half owner of these premises, Mary.’ Jim was unmoving. ‘Tonight. Or there will be consequences.’ He stepped forward and she shrank back from him. ‘And you know what those will be.’

‘Yes, Jim.’ Mary nodded. ‘But where shall we go?’

‘Go and see Gus at the theatre.’ Jim replied. ‘He’ll find you a place for your girls. As for you, we will have things to discuss.’ He gave her a smile. ‘You need to get the word out.’ 

That made Mary’s eyes go wide. She nodded. 

‘I’ll do it.’ She pulled her shawl around her. ‘Tonight.’

‘Good.’ Jim turned and started down the stairs and Ross was left staring after him and completely bemused as to what had just taken place. He threw Mary one last look and then followed in hot pursuit. 

‘What the bloody hell was that?’ he demanded and Jim chuckled. 

‘Do you really want to know?’ His tone was teasing and Ross felt an overwhelming urge to throw him against the wall now and get answers out of him by any means necessary. A traitorous little part of himself suggested that those means did not all have to be unpleasant and he swiftly stamped all over that notion.

‘Yes, I want to know.’ He caught Jim by the arm as he’d done to Mary. All he got for his trouble was smirk and a pair of dancing eyes. 

‘Too bad I don’t want to tell you then, isn’t it?’ Jim smiled as he disengaged himself and kept walking and Ross was left feeling more confused than ever. The expletives he let loose made a passing pair of washerwoman give him a shocked look. 

Ross ignored them and took off after his new business partner, cursing Jim and his father and everything that seemed to be determined to get in his way.


	9. South Of The River

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There are visits to be made...

Warleggan looked around the table at the faces now waiting for him to give them some sort of explanation. They had been discussing the issue at hand for an hour. 

He knew that he’d taken a risk bringing them both in and he’d been willing to take it. He now had a definitive answer on what they had planned and that they were in no way going to negotiate or sell the island willingly. 

‘Warleggan.’ He looked at one of the board who was tapping his fingers on the polished surface of the table. ‘You said they would sell.’

‘No.’ he corrected. ‘I said that one of them might sell.’ He leaned back in his chair. ‘It’s now clear that Ross Poldark is going to be a sticking point. I had hoped that Hawkins might have seen the offer and taken it. But the fact that both of them have refused is in no way as big an obstacle as you might think.’ He steepled his fingers and smiled to himself. 

‘What we now need to do is ascertain just how far we are willing to take this.’ He tapped his forefingers together. ‘Is the Company willing to give me leeway in this matter?’

‘That would depend on how much leeway is required and whether or not it will come back to incriminate us.’ This was from Barrington, seated to Warleggan’s left. He was not that far below him in the Company hierarchy but he was a good ally with a cautious approach that ensured they would always be above reproach. ‘And if you have someone who can do the job with the utmost discretion.’

‘It has already been arranged.’ Warleggan replied. ‘I decided that we needed to have a plan in the event of a refusal. Now we are justified in putting this into place.’ He fixed them all with a stern look. ‘The Company wants that island gentlemen. We are not above using every method at our disposal to get it. I need not remind you how much the Crown wants a stable influence in the area and an assurance that we will not lose the Eastern trade routes.’ 

‘No.’ Barrington said. ‘You do not. And I think I speak for all of us when I say that we will be happy to sanction any necessary action to make sure that is the outcome of this.’ 

‘Then we are agreed.’ Warleggan smiled at George. ‘Both Mr Poldakr and Mr Hawkins have just made themselves disposable. Once they are out of the way, the estate shall revert back to Francis Poldark and the deal is back on the table.’ 

The others nodded and got up from the table once Warleggan dismissed them. He beckoned to George and then gestured for him to sit.

‘I have already made the arrangements for the disposal of both parties.’ he said. ‘I need you to turn up the pressure on Francis. Get the people he’s in debt to to pay a little visit and make some subtle threats. That should frighten the little shit into dropping his price and be more amenable to us.’ 

‘And what of Hawkins and Poldark?’ he asked. ‘You said you have made arrangements?’

‘Mr Hawkins has a performance tomorrow evening.’ Warleggan replied. ‘There will be an unfortunate incident afterwards. London is an unsafe place after dark, even for a young man. As for Poldark, we shall have to be more subtle. Taking the same route as we did with his father will take too long, but maybe a fortuitous house fire will do the job. At any rate I am having him followed. Should the man I have enlisted find an opportunity, he will dispose of him.’ He waved a hand at Francis. ‘Now go and get me Unwin. I have some things for him to do and you need to find Francis and have a little word with him and get a written assurance out of him.’

‘Very well.’ George started for the door and then turned. ‘I have taken the liberty of assigning a man to him. Someone in his circle.’

‘Good thinking.’ Warleggan said. ‘Was he costly?’

‘No.’ George smirked. ‘They never are.’ He left the board room and Warleggan waited for Unwin. When he came in, he seemed surprised that there had been a meeting without him. One of his duties was to take minutes for Warleggan, but Warleggan had wanted the meeting off the books. He handed him his notes. 

‘Turn this into something, will you?’ he ordered and Unwin took the documents. He was responsible for all of Warleggan’s bookkeeping and Warleggan sometimes mused that one of these days he might have to dispose of him as well simply because he knew too much. Then again Unwin was ambitious and not too bright which was exactly what he looked for in his assistants. 

**********

Ross left Jim at St Katherine’s and rode towards London Bridge. It would take him across the river and in the direction of Southwark and his cousin’s house. Francis had inherited it from his father Charles when he was young. Joshua’s younger brother had been short-lived, dying of diphtheria when he was only thirty and leaving his five-year old son and widow behind. The brothers had been reasonably close when children but had grown apart as they got older and Ross had seen more of his step-sister than he had of his cousin with whom he shared actual blood. It was Joshua’s reluctance to let him and Elizabeth spend time with others that had led to their extreme closeness and even when Ross had gone to school and become a cadet of the Company, they had maintained that. 

He crossed over and rode the five miles down through Southwark to the house that Charles had built well away from the docks that had provided their family with their fortune. Here he’d lived a life of indolence and indulgence, using the money left by Ross’ grandfather to spend his days collecting art and paying for an estate that had become a millstone around his son’s neck by all accounts. Ross had made enquiries before returning to England. It had been enough to find out that Elizabeth had married his cousin and his cousin had been using his father to supplement his lifestyle. 

He arrived at the house and rode up the drive. He was met by a stable boy at the side and handed over Bathsheba after giving the usual warnings. He was met at the door and announced himself to the butler and followed him into a front parlour before giving him his hat and coat. 

Then he waited.

It was unlikely that Francis would be at home. Ross had some intelligence on this front and knew his cousin liked to while his days away in London’s coffee houses. He’d chosen this time on purpose, hoping to catch Elizabeth at home by herself. 

Ross knew they had unfinished business together. The feelings he’d had for her had changed in his absence but he was still in a single frame of mind which told him that maybe there was hope. He’d returned with the idea that he would take her away from everything here, but then he’d heard that she was married to Francis and now the anger was not only directed at his cousin but also at her. He stood and looked around him, at the tastefully furnished room, and wondered just how much she knew about her husband’s debt.

There was the sound of a door opening and he turned to see her standing there looking at him, her dark eyes wide and pale skin radiant. She was every bit as lovely as when he’d left her behind and Ross met her eyes even as his heart gave a little jump. 

‘Hello, sister.’ he said and she drew in a sharp breath, her hand clutching at the front of her dress. 

‘You should not be here.’ Her voice was shaking. 

‘Now what kind of welcome is that?’ Ross replied. ‘Here I am, returned from the dead and you turn me away?’ He snorted. 

‘Francis is away.’ Elizabeth lifted her chin defiantly. ‘Your business is with him.’

‘My business is also with you, Elizabeth.’ Ross took a step towards her and was heartened to see the flash in her brown eyes. ‘Or have you completely erased what we were to each other from your mind?’

‘I did that the very night you left me to fend for myself, Ross Poldark.’ Elizabeth replied. ‘The night I realised your promises were as empty as your heart was.’ Her eyes were now bright, but Ross wasn’t sure if it was tears or anger that had made them so. ‘Yes, I am turning you away. I have nothing to say to you and you broke any tie I had the night you abandoned me.’ She had two spots of colour burning in her perfect pale cheeks and Ross remembered that always happened when her passions were roused. 

‘You’re still so beautiful.’ he mused. ‘Francis must have been very proud to have won your hand.’ 

‘He won my hand but not my heart.’ Elizabeth retorted. ‘I held onto hope against hope for years. But you did not return and then they said you’d been lost at sea.’ Her face contorted as she fought back tears. ‘That was when I gave up my hope and let you go and took a life that you should have been the one offering me.’

Ross inhaled deeply. He could see her pain and he knew that he’d been the cause of it, but it was washed away by the possessiveness he still felt. He strode across the room to her, closing the space between them and took her by the arms. 

‘You are lying.’ he murmured. ‘You still feel what is between us.’

Elizabeth shook her head violently, struggling against his grip.

‘No.’ She turned her face from him. ‘I do not. You are not even as a brother to me now.’ 

‘I never was as a brother to you.’ Ross hissed. ‘Or have you forgotten that too?’ He tightened his grip and felt her flinch. ‘We did things no brother and sister should do.’

‘It was wrong.’ Elizabeth whispered. ‘You were wrong.’ She turned back and now her eyes were dark. ‘You took what you should not have taken.’

‘It was offered to me freely.’ Ross stared her down. ‘You were as culpable as I.’

‘And now I have repented.’ Elizabeth said, her voice barely audible. ‘I have taken a good God fearing man as my husband and I am a faithful wife.’ She looked back at him and now her eyes were flat and cold, all the spark gone from their depths. 

Ross let her go and stepped back.

‘I remember that look.’ He sighed heavily. ‘You’d straighten your skirts once we were done and walk away from me as if nothing had happened.’ 

‘What we did was a sin.’ Elizabeth said, moving to lean on the table at the side of the door, one hand to her swollen abdomen. Ross looked at her belly. 

‘That child should have been mine.’ he said and Elizabeth made a desperate little noise. 

‘I am so pleased it is not.’ She looked up at him. ‘I am glad it does not have your devil’s blood.’ She straightened up. ‘Now please leave my house, brother, and do not come back.’

She shook her head. ‘I do not wish to see you again.’ She held up a hand to ward him off as he took another step towards her. ‘Ross, please. Just go and leave me be.’

‘You can deny this.’ Ross clenched his hands into fists. ‘But I will be back for you.’

‘No, you won’t’. Elizabeth replied. ‘Now get out.’

Ross watched her leave the room and heard her climb up the stairs. 

He left the parlour and walked out into the hall. The butler was coming from the door with a handful of letters and he stopped when he saw Ross. 

‘Sir?’ He looked at him quizzically.

‘A short visit.’ Ross replied with a wry smile. ‘My things?’

‘Of course.’ The butler placed the letters on a silver tray on the hall table and went to get them. Ross waited until he had left and then went over to the tray. He’d hoped to speak to Elizabeth about the introduction he needed, but his unceremonious dismissal had put paid to that. 

He idly flipped through the letters and then picked one up and studied it. He had told Dwight that he would approach Elizabeth because he already knew that she and Francis ran in the same social circles as the person he was to seek out. Now his instincts were proving correct. 

Ross smiled and pocketed the letter and then stepped away from the table a moment before the butler reappeared and handed him his hat and overcoat. 

He went to collect Bathsheba and considered going back over the river. Then something else occurred to him and he kicked her into a canter and rode down towards the marshes that lay south of the Isle. 

The building had fallen into complete disrepair and the rusty lock on the gate was no obstacle in him gaining entry. Ross rode through the overgrown grounds, looking up at the forbidding walls of stone that loomed over the grounds and filled them with shadows even in the sunshine. 

Ross pulled Bathsheba to a stop and dismounted, tying her to a tree branch before crossing the uneven ground and scouting around until he found a door that was unlocked. He shoved it open and went inside and it was like all the sound simply stopped. 

Inside the light had a different quality, illuminating the empty corridors just enough. Ross stood still and closed his eyes, letting the whispers that hovered just on the periphery of his consciousness come to the fore and speak to him. They bled into his mind and when he opened his eyes they were black. 

He waited, letting the voices start to filter out until there was just one left. It murmured into his ears and he followed its directions, walking along the corridor until he got to a flight of stairs. It led up and up until he got to a landing underneath a cupola that had once been grand and which was now broken and filthy. 

A passageway ran down to the right and Ross followed it until he got to the end. Here there was a door standing ajar and he placed one hand to its surface. The whisper got louder and he pushed just enough to open it. Inside there was a room, empty and coated in dust. Ross went in, tracing his fingers along the wall. There was a single window high on the wall, the light coming through the bars and making the motes of dust now floating through the air glitter. 

Ross stood in the light and held out a hand, watching as the motes curled in on themselves as the light brightened. They formed a shape and for a second he could just make out a hand and feel the lightest brush of spectral fingers against his own. He felt the sadness threatening to overwhelm him like it had when she had first been taken away. 

‘Mother.’ It was only a whisper but the motes danced around him and Ross felt warmth steal into his limbs until he was surrounded by the feeling of safety and love and nothing of the darkness was left. He smiled and this time it was genuine. He could almost smell her, that lingering scent of violet and jasmine that she always wore and then it was gone. The light faded back into the half illumination from before and he was left standing in the empty room. The black faded from his eyes and he looked down at the floor around him. Under the dust were lines drawn onto the floorboards, black and barely visible, but he knew what they were. He had sat and drawn the same patterns in the ashes from his mother’s fireplace as she had shown him long ago, making Jud grumble at the mess they had made. 

It had been her voice that had saved him all those years before when he was under the water, inky black and suffocating. She had guided him back to the surface, whispering to him that he still had work to do. Ross had lived that night, but it was all for this now. He would take the legacy he was owed and she would guide him through it, just as she always had. He had others too, debts that needed settling and work that was required on behalf of the dead but making his way was her only wish. 

He stayed for a while, lingering in the room where she met her end until the shadows grew too long and he felt the press of others start to sit too heavy on his shoulders. Then he left, going back out into the day to find Bathsheba and return to the other side of the river. 

The house was empty when he arrived and Ross was pleased to have the time to himself. He went up to the attic and spent the rest of his afternoon sorting through his father’s things. The letter he had stolen from Elizabeth lay on his desk, now opened and the crisp black writing declaring it to be an invitation to a grand party to be held that very evening. Ross spared it only a cursory glance every now and then, smiling at the words that would buy him into the next step of his plans.

**********

Down the river, a pinnace made its way down the Thames and out of the city. Its destination was one of the many informal settlements that had sprung up on the foreshore, hosting an array of people from sailors to fishermen and whores and merchants.

The one it was headed for was a network of piers and walkways and sheds that housed the very roughest of trade. The unwary did not last long in this place, their throats slit and their money stolen before they were chucked off the edge to drift into the currents that would take them out to sea. 

The pinnace docked at the end of one such pier and Jim climbed up from its deck with a nimbleness that spoke of a deep familiarity with boats and all things connected with them. He caught the rope thrown to him by the pinnace’s owner and tied it off briskly before setting off down the pier. 

There was a cluster of buildings just as the pier came to ground, mean things built of seasoned timber and alive with activity. Jim went inside, the gloom not deterring him from moving through ropes and tackle and netting that was awaiting repair. The stink of pitch and hemp was strong and soothing to him, a comforting smell that he missed when he was on land. 

The room led into another and another until Jim made his way into the final one. This was windowless and lit by a stove, the coal inside glowing red and silhouetting the man sitting in front of it. His profile was strong and fine, the nose pronounced and the lips full. He turned black eyes that glittered in the light on Jim and there was a flash of teeth as he smiled. 

‘Jim-lad.’ His voice was deep and rumbling. ‘I heard tell you were back.’

‘I have news.’ Jim went to take a seat on a crate that was next to the man. ‘It’s time.’

‘The ship will be auctioned in two days.’ The man went back to what he’d been doing, turning the piece of wood he was carving over in his hands as he scraped shavings from it with the wickedly sharp knife he held. ‘You will need to get the capital.’

‘I have found someone who can provide that.’ Jim leaned his elbows on his knees. ‘But there is a problem.’

‘Aye.’ The man glanced at him again. ‘So I have been informed.’

‘He won’t sell me his half, of that you can be sure.’ Jim looked into the hypnotic dance of flame and coal. ‘But he might make a suitable partner in our venture.’

‘Can he be trusted?’ The man asked and Jim shrugged. 

‘Probably not.’ He held out a hand and the man handed him the piece he’d been working on. ‘But he’s got convictions and a desire to stick the boot into the Company so I think we will be able to work together.’

‘Good.’ The man sat back and stretched out his legs. One was intricately carved of dark wood and fastened to his own by a complicated apparatus of leather. 

Jim smiled at his recollections of his childhood fascination with that particular object and his awe for the man that sat next to him and who had become more than father to him. That awe had changed to love and an unswerving loyalty until it had seen him standing at his foster father’s side as his lieutenant. He would do and had done much for the man next to him, including going out to earn their keep so as to keep them both from the hangman’s noose. 

‘You are well?’ he asked and the man nodded. 

‘Aye, lad.’ He smiled and this time there was a wistfulness about it. ‘But I miss our fine lady.’

‘She’ll be back with us soon.’ Jim leaned forward and put his hand to the man’s shoulder. ‘And then we shall be gone from this place.’ 

‘Not soon enough.’ The man chuckled. ‘I ache for the smell of the open sea. This river is not enough.’

‘I know.’ Jim sighed and then looked around. ‘I wish I could find better lodgings for you.’

‘You do too much already.’ the man said and then they both turned as a head stuck itself in the doorway. The intruder was short, barely reaching Jim’s shoulder and he himself was not a tall man when he stood alongside the man next to him who had earned his name from his height.

‘Silver? Is everything well?’ The visitor frowned until he got a better look at who was sitting in the room. ‘Is that you Jim?’

‘It is, Billy.’ Jim smiled at the visitor. ‘I’ve come to check on the old man.’

‘Old man!’ Silver snorted. ‘I can still kick your arse from here to the Tower boy, so watch your words and hold your tongue before I tan your hide.’

That made Jim laugh. 

‘Yes, Father.’ he replied, smirking at him. ‘Although I feel I should remind you that I am grown enough to give you a fair fight.’

‘Fuck that.’ Silver chuckled. ‘Pirates do not fight fair, only to win.’

‘Privateers.’ Jim corrected. ‘We have been legitimised, remember?’

‘I hate to break up this debate, but I have your dinner Silver.’ Billy said as he came in, revealing a handled pot in his hand. ‘Are you staying to dine with us, Jim?’

‘Maybe.’ Jim grinned at him. ‘What is it?’

‘Fish stew.’ Billy replied and placed the pot on the stove. ‘Made by my own fair hand.’

‘In that case maybe not.’ Jim laughed again and then winced when Silver’s hand caught him at the back of his head. 

‘Don’t be ungrateful.’ Silver admonished. ‘Remember who raised and fed you, lad.’

‘I do.’ Jim replied, still smiling. ‘That’s why I have my doubts as to his culinary skills.’

Silver and Billy looked at each other and then laughed with him. 

‘He knows us far too well.’ Silver said. ‘I fear we no longer intimidate the boy.’ Affection coloured his words though and there was a deep love in his eyes when he looked at Jim.

‘Too bad we can’t throw him overboard.’ Billy was stirring the contents of the pot. ‘You thought it was a good idea to teach the little bugger to swim.’

‘You are aware that I am present?’ Jim felt light and happy, falling into the old pattern of banter that had been a hallmark of his rise from child to man. ‘And that I can hear you?’

His words were greeted with another rumble of laughter and a fond hand on his knee. 

‘Enough of that.’ Silver grinned and it was wolfish. ‘Tell us more of our new business partner.’


	10. An Evening Rout

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ross, Jim and Dwight have plans for the evening.

Francis strode into the house and stopped at the front hall to hand off his hat and coat to the butler before going through to the drawing room. As expected, Elizabeth was there seated at the window and doing her embroidery. She barely glanced at him and anger curled in his gut, noxious and red hot. He had been inordinately angry this past week, Ross’ reappearance and the realisation that he stood to lose everything completely enraging him. 

He paced back and forth a few times, noting how Elizabeth was ignoring him. Eventually he went to the sideboard and poured himself a drink. The sigh behind him was enough to make him grip the glass until his knuckles whitened. 

‘It is barely past noon.’ Elizabeth chided. ‘Can you at least attempt to stay sober until we go to the Penvenens.’

‘Sobriety is highly overrated in this particular situation, my dear.’ Francis sneered, throwing back the brandy rather dramatically. He poured another. ‘Is it entirely necessary to go to this event?’

‘Caroline invited us weeks ago.’ Elizabeth laid down her frame and gave him that look he despised, annoyance and disappointment laid over each other. ‘We simply must go.’ 

‘I despise those people.’ Francis muttered. ‘They all think they are better than us because they have unlimited income at their disposal.’

‘No.’ Elizabeth looked back down, but Francis could hear the contempt in her voice. ‘They just know a fool when they see one.’

Her words made Francis seethe and he hurled the glass at the wall, shattering it into pieces. Elizabeth jumped and her face paled. She shrank back from him as he stormed across the room and grabbed her by the shoulders, shaking her hard enough to make the embroidery fall from her hands to the floor. 

‘I expect that you think I am a fool!’ He spat in her face. ‘Perhaps now that Ross is back you are hoping that he will come and save you from the brute you married and who out a roof over your head and clothes on your back!’ He shook her again and she let out a little cry. ‘I am surprised that I haven’t caught him sniffing around your skirts by now.’ 

Elizabeth’s face was stricken and she was not quick enough to control the emotions that flashed in her dark eyes. It told Francis everything he needed to know.

‘You traitorous bitch!’ he roared and lifted a hand to strike her but she threw up one of her own, her brown eyes now blazing.

‘No!’ Her voice was like ice. ‘You wouldn’t want to leave a mark that can be seen, not with the soiree.’

It was enough to make Francis lower his hand and scowl at her. 

‘You are my wife.’ he hissed. ‘And you shall comport yourself as such. Has he been in this house and mind how you answer for I shall know if you are lying?’ 

‘He came to call today.’ Elizabeth was shaking but her face was still set. ‘I turned him away. I know you are my husband and my loyalties are to you and our child.’

‘Be sure to keep them like that.’ Francis let her go and straightened up. ‘And make sure you are looking your best tonight.’ 

With that he left the room, hearing the sobs that followed him and not caring a whit for his wife’s unhappiness.

*********

A few hours later, Dwight hummed to himself as he packed up his equipment at the end of the day. Trade had been brisk and he had full pockets and a happy disposition. 

There was a tap on the doorframe and Dwight looked up and saw Ross standing there. 

‘Good day.’ He grinned at his new benefactor. ‘To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?’

‘I have a job for you.’ Ross came into the room. ‘What are you doing this evening?’ 

‘I have no specific plans.’ Dwight replied. ‘Unless you wish for me to show you where the magic will be happening, so to speak.’

‘No.’ Ross took a piece of paper from his pocket. ‘Have you anything suitable to wear to something like this?’ He handed the invitation to Dwight and Dwight frowned. He read it and handed it back. 

‘That’s a very fancy gathering.’ He scratched at his chin. ‘I am afraid that I do not. I must also say that I am a little mystified as to why my presence is required.’

‘All you need to know is that you need to come with me.’ Ross instructed. ‘I have need of someone who can distract from my presence this evening. Have you got anything that might help with that?’

‘I most certainly do.’ Dwight grinned. ‘Is this part of the greater plan?’

‘You do recall that I said that I needed to make contact with someone.’ Ross replied. ‘Well that particular person is going to be at this event. But it will be less conspicuous if I have you with me to divert attention from what I am doing.’

‘Ah, the spy!’ Dwight chuckled and rubbed his hands together. ‘That sounds like an evening of most excellent entertainment.’ He took off the leather apron he wore and hung it up. ‘Give me a moment and I shall be right with you.’

Ross waited while he got what he needed, poking around the front room and examining bits of tubing and clamps and stands that Dwight had out on the bench. Then he turned his attention to the glass fronted cabinets behind him, lined with glass jars with the names of the chemicals inside written on them in gold and black. 

Dwight watched him as he packed some things in a leather bag.

‘You have an interest?’ he asked and Ross shook his head. 

‘I am only concerned with the effect and not the cause.’ he replied. ‘What are you bringing with us?’

‘Some entertainments.’ Dwight chuckled. ‘But I am unfortunately unable to provide myself with something to wear.’

‘That is easily remedied.’ Ross gave him a quick up and down. ‘You and I are more or less of a height and I have a wardrobe full of my father’s clothes which have been of use to me. My servant can alter anything we need.’ He chuckled. ‘Unless you averse to wearing a dead man’s clothes?’

‘So long as he didn’t actually die in them.’ Dwight laughed. ‘Shall we?’ 

They left and the carriage took them down to the river and along until they got to the house. They got out and went inside. 

Ross led Dwight upstairs and into the antechamber of his father’s room. 

‘Here.’ He waved a hand at the wardrobe. ‘Jud is already seeing to my clothes. Find something you deem fit and then bring it down.' 

‘I shall.’ Dwight was already rifling through the wardrobe. ‘And may I say that your dearly departed father had excellent taste.’ 

‘You are probably the only one that thinks that.’ Ross retorted and left the room. He went straight upstairs to the attic and found the door ajar. Frowning, he went inside and found that he had an intruder. He approached and looked over Jim’s shoulder at the map of Nampara Island that he’d left laid out on the table. 

‘You’ve tidied.’ Jim remarked but didn’t look at him. 

‘And you’re trespassing.’ Ross replied, reaching past him for the map and rolling it up. ‘What are you doing in here?’

‘Looking around.’ Jim turned and leaned against the table. In the dusty light of the attic, he seemed to have an almost ethereal glow and Ross found it disturbing in the extreme. ‘Where have you been? When I returned, Jud said that I had just missed you.’

‘I went to get Dwight.’ Ross found the leather tube that held documents that his father had carried most places with him and inserted the map before tying it up. ‘We have an engagement this evening.’

‘Ah yes.’ Jim said and then Ross saw that he’d produced the invitation seemingly from nowhere and was holding it in his hand. ‘Lord Penvenen’s ball.’ His smile was dimpled and bordering on wicked.

‘How…’ Ross strode forward and snatched the invitation from his fingers. ‘No. Absolutely not. You are going nowhere near this.’

‘It’s awfully boring being at home alone and Jud is only so much entertainment.’ Jim replied. ‘And I can help. It’s not like you’ve got any social graces. You can’t just go to an event like this and bark at people.’

‘I will manage perfectly well without your help.’ Ross snorted. ‘And you’re proving to be nothing but trouble.’

‘Charming trouble though.’ Jim grinned. ‘Whatever you’re looking for there, I can probably find it out without having to beat anyone over the head or dump them off a dock.’

Now Ross was mystified. 

‘What are you talking about?’ he narrowed his eyes at Jim. 

‘A man with a silver tooth washed up on the foreshore this afternoon.’ Jim explained. ‘I found Demelza and her little gang of ruffians cutting it out of his head. She told me that you and he had a run in on account of Mary.’ 

‘Demelza?’ Ross glared at him. ‘You know that little wharf rat?’

‘Of course.’ Jim raised one golden eyebrow at him. ‘Haven’t you realised that I know most everybody down here?’ He chuckled. ‘I also notice that you are not denying any responsibility.’

‘He attacked me.’ Ross pointed out. ‘I defended myself.’ 

‘And you did a fine job.’ Jim was now smiling broadly, dimples out. ‘I would like to see the weapon that opened him up that way.’

‘Keep bothering me and you shall become intimately acquainted with it.’ Ross muttered. ‘Now will you make yourself scarce? I have things to do before this evening and only an hour until we must depart for Kensington.’

Jim laughed and pushed off of the table. He sauntered past Ross and then turned as he got to the door of the attic. 

‘You know it would be far better for us to put our heads together, Ross.’ He stuck his hands in his pockets. ‘The Company is a formidable enemy and we are now both on their watch list.’

‘I do not need your bloody help!’ Ross barked. ‘Now go away!’ 

‘Suit yourself.’ Jim replied and disappeared through the door. 

Ross watched him go, hands clenched into fists. Jim seemed to rub him up completely the wrong way, his arrogant self-assurance making Ross want to hit him and at the same time intriguing him in ways he really had no interest in exploring. 

At least he was telling himself that.

He checked over the things he had rearranged to make sure that Jim hadn’t taken anything and then began getting ready for the evening. 

He made his way downstairs to the kitchen and found Jud sitting at the table putting the finishing touches to Ross’ clothing for the evening. This evening he had opted for black, both in trousers and tailcoat, with a dark green damask waistcoat. If he was going to make in impression it was to be a good one. Jud had starched his neck cloth and was now ironing it flat. He gave Ross a glare. 

Not a bleeding thing on this lot.’ he warned. ‘Or I will have your hide.’

Ross snorted and sat down at the table. 

‘Dwight is getting something to wear.’ He chuckled at the look of exasperation on Jud’s face. ‘Don’t fret. He’s probably going to be a lot kinder to the old man’s things than I am.’

‘Speakin’ of.’ Jud went to the dresser and came back with something in his hand. ‘I found it and cleaned it. Got it workin’.’ He handed the object over and Ross took it with a sigh.  
He had loved it when he was a child, and Joshua had let him play with it for hours while Ross had sat in the attic and watched him at work. It had been a gift from Grace when they were married and Joshua had not once taken it off until they day she had been committed. Then it had disappeared and Ross had thought it lost or sold. 

‘Where did you find it?’ he asked and Jud shrugged. 

‘In a drawer.’ He gave Ross a quick glance. ‘Though you might want it.’ 

Ross smiled ruefully and turned the watch over in his hands. It had been cunningly wrought in the shape of a skull from silver, every little anatomical detail perfectly rendered. The cranium unlatched and flipped up to reveal the face of the watch inside. Ross opened it and saw that Jud had wound it, the hands moving smoothly. The chain was still attached as well, a link of silver bones and ending in a fob engraved with the Poldark family crest. 

‘Thank you.’ He placed the watch in his pocket. ‘I am glad to have it.’

‘Well it’s yours ain’t it?’ Jud muttered. ‘Here.’ He handed over the neck cloth. ‘You want me to ‘elp you dress?’

‘No need.’ Ross got up. ‘Just bring up some hot water for me to wash with and I’ll see to myself.’

‘Give me a moment.’ Jud grumbled. He sounded brusque and Ross hid a smile. Jud wasn’t given to emotions but he knew him well enough to tell they were close to the surface. He got up and walked over, placing a hand to his shoulder. 

‘Thank you, Jud.’ He squeezed gently. ‘Truly.’

Jud snorted and tried not to look pleased. 

‘Get away with you.’ He swiped half-heartedly at Ross and then stopped as Dwight came in with clothing draped over his arm.

‘I think this is my colour.’ He grinned and handed the coat and waistcoat over to Jud. He had chosen a tail coat in plum velvet and a waistcoat in silvery grey. ‘I must say that your father was a bit of a dandy in his final years.’

‘Yes, it certainly seems so.’ Ross muttered. He looked back at Jud. ‘Water.’

‘Comin’ up when I ‘ave a moment.’ Jud complained. ‘I only ‘ave two ‘ands.’

Ross laughed and went back upstairs. As promised, Jud came up about half an hour later with the water and he washed and dressed. He had not dressed in this fashion for a very long time and the stiff formal clothes felt restrictive and uncomfortable to him. He struggled with the neck cloth, not sure how to tie it. He did the best he could, and glared at himself in the mirror hanging from one of the supporting beams, hoping he at least looked passable. He tamed his hair into a semblance of neatness and attached the watch to his waistcoat before venturing downstairs. 

As he got to the landing he was annoyed to see Jim coming out of his father’s room and very obviously dressed to accompany him. His black tailcoat was far more stylish than Ross’, cut well to accentuate a fine shape and paired with a forget-me-not blue silk waistcoat and light trousers. His thick gold curls were pulled back again and tied off with a black velvet ribbon. He looked quite the dandy and Ross had to steel himself against the little flicker of heat in his chest. 

‘I said you are not coming with us.’ He tried to sound authoritative but of course Jim just laughed him off. 

‘What the devil have you done?’ He came over and Ross saw that he was looking pointedly at his neck-cloth. ‘You have made a fine mess of that.’

‘What of it?’ Ross was defensive. ‘I have been gone for the past five years. You cannot expect me to know the latest fashions in a week.’

‘It’s not a question of the latest fashion, Ross.’ Jim replied as he got to him. ‘It’s a question of competence. This is appalling.’ He reached for Ross and tutted when Ross started to back away. ‘Bloody well stand still.’ 

Ross was horrified to find himself actually obeying the order, allowing Jim to untie the cloth and then begin the process of retying it. He was far too close for comfort and Ross tried to look away but found himself being drawn back, looking at the light mottling of freckles across the bridge of Jim’s nose and the thick blond eyelashes that shaded his sea-coloured eyes. He had his lower lip caught between his teeth as he concentrated and it made Ross want to do the unthinkable and lower his head just enough to taste his full mouth. 

That thought jolted him out of his reverie and he batted Jim’s hands away.

‘It’s fine.’ He needed to put space between them so he stepped back under the pretence of inspecting himself in the landing mirror. 

‘Now it is.’ Jim regarded him. ‘You look far more presentable. You might even pass tonight. That is if you can behave as well as you look.’ 

He let those words hang between them and went downstairs, leaving Ross bemused as to the seeming compliment. Then he shook it off and followed. 

Dwight was also dressed and ready when they got to the kitchen and he was regaling Jud with anecdotes from his occupation. Jud was cackling like an old hen and drinking tea which no doubt had gin in it. 

‘Are we set?’ he asked and then grinned when he saw Jim. ‘I did not know you were accompanying us.’

‘He’s not.’ Ross muttered. 

‘I am.’ Jim replied, obstinate as ever. ‘You need me to help you and whatever you’re up to, I need to keep an eye on my partner.’ 

‘Then it’s a merry band of three.’ Dwight chuckled. ‘Shall we be off?’ 

‘I ‘ad the ‘orses brought round.’ Jud got up. ‘And one for Dwight.’

‘Very kind of you, Jud.’ Dwight said. 

The horses were waiting for them outside. It was usual of single men to ride in together and they drew no attention as they pulled on their overcoats and mounted up. 

The Penvenen estate was in Kensington and a good eight miles away, which meant a ride of close on an hour. The evening was clear, if a little cold as autumn set in properly, and their horses’ breath steamed in the air. 

‘A fine night for an excursion.’ Dwight pronounced. He had his old battered top hat and overcoat on, at odds with his fine new clothes. Jim wasn’t much better, wearing his leather riding coat and rather scandalously going bareheaded. He was attracting a great many disapproving looks but he seemed to care not a bit. 

‘And you complained about the way I had tied my neck-cloth.’ Ross pointed out and Jim snorted with laughter. 

‘There’s a different between ignoring fashion and being wilfully ignorant of it.’ he retorted.

‘Are you two going to be taking pot shots at each other all evening?’ Dwight asked, grinning madly. ‘Because at this rate you will be the entertainment and not I.’

‘Yes, about that.’ Jim looked at him quizzically. ‘What exactly are you going to be doing?’

‘Providing a diversion.’ Dwight explained, merrily ignoring Ross’ glare. ‘Ross is looking for someone and I am going to make sure they speak undisturbed.’ He snickered at Ross’ unimpressed face. ‘Come now, Ross. He’s your partner.’

‘Not by choice.’ Ross grumbled. 

‘So who exactly are you looking for?’ Jim asked and Ross hunched down, now thoroughly put out. 

‘I am not at liberty to say.’ He refused to look at Jim, now convinced that he could read him. Jim was proving to be far too astute for his own good.

‘Are you sure?’ There was a hint of a laugh in Jim’s voice. ‘You would be surprised just who I know. I could introduce you.’

‘I shall be fine without your assistance.’ Ross muttered. ‘Just stay out of my way.’

‘As you wish.’ Jim looked up at the sky and fell back into silence. 

Dwight looked from one to the other, grin still in place. Ross noticed and shot him a baleful look. Dwight made a face of mock innocence and then started chattering on about the reactions of sodium. 

The ride finally came to an end when they got to the stretch of large estates that made up the suburb of Kensington. The Penvenen house was a magnificent construction of stuccoed stone with grand pillars in the Greek style along the front. 

There were a number of attendants waiting outside to usher guests out of carriages and take horses for stabling during the evening. The three of them dismounted and handed off their horses and then walked up to the front door. Here a waiting footman inquired after their names and Ross gave them. He waited to be rebuffed but to his surprise the second Jim’s name was spoken, the footman immediately led them inside and announced them to the second footman who led them through the front hall and to the antechamber that led into the main reception room and over to a third footman who greeted them and bid them wait while he announced them to the lady of the house.

Ross glanced down at Jim and got a particularly knowing smile which infuriated him. Dwight was busying himself with inspecting the refreshments table and returned with a small pasty in hand. Ross frowned and accepted a glass of wine from an attendant. Dwight and Jim both followed suit as they waited. After a few moments the footman returned and indicated for them to follow.

‘I did say I might be of use.’ Jim sounded smug as he took the lead and walked through to the reception. 

Here they found a venerable pair, Lord and Lady Penvenen. They greeted Jim warmly and asked after his time in Europe and Jim smiled and replied in kind. Then he turned. 

‘My good friends, Mr Poldark and Mr Enys.’ he said. ‘Mr Enys is a chemist of some great talent and has had the foresight to bring along a few entertainments should you allow it.’

‘A kindly thought.’ Lady Penvenen replied. ‘Caroline is about, if you can make her stand still for a moment or two.’

‘I shall be sure to keep my eyes open.’ Jim replied and then herded Ross and Dwight into the general crowd. Dwight looked at him with open admiration. 

‘How did you manage that?’ he asked and Jim laughed. 

‘They are a fan of Shakespeare.’ he replied, his eyes sparkling with good humour. ‘They have invited me a few times to do a monologue for them at one of their routs, although I have not been for the better part of a year.’ He winked at Ross. ‘Better than you could come up with I wager.’

‘A lucky chance.’ Ross retorted. ‘And who is Caroline?’

‘Their daughter.’ Jim replied. ‘She is a good acquaintance of mine and I think you’ll both find her very interesting. She is far more intelligent than most of her class.’ He led them through the gathered people. ‘Ah, there she is.’

He made straight for a young woman with hair as golden as his own. She was particularly lovely and gracefully shaped in her gown of crimson silk overlaid with black lace worn with elbow length black gloves. Her gold and ruby earrings dangled and caught the light and she smiled as she caught sight of Jim. 

‘Hasn’t it been an age?’ she asked by way of greeting. ‘I am delighted to see you.’

‘Caroline.’ Jim greeted her. ‘You look lovely as usual.’

‘You haven’t been to see me in over eight months.’ Caroline chided. ‘How can you tell?’ She looked past him with open curiosity on her face. ‘Who are your companions?’

‘Caroline, this is Ross Poldark.’ Jim stepped aside to gesture to them in turn. ‘And Dwight Enys.’

Ross gave her a stiff smile and was amused to see that next to him, Dwight looked like a man who had just been struck by lightning. He stepped forward and took Caroline’s hand, kissing the knuckles in a flamboyant gesture.

‘My lady.’ he intoned. ‘At the risk of sounding completely inappropriate, may I say that you are quite beautiful.’ 

‘Hmmm.’ Caroline looked delighted and amused in equal measure. ‘I like this one, James.’

‘He’s a terrible flirt.’ Jim chuckled. ‘Keep an eye on him.’ 

‘I think I just might.’ Caroline said, wafting her fan around. ‘Father is trying to match-make me with the Hon. Unwin Trevaunance. He’s a frightful bore and hasn’t got an ounce of wit, but he’s rich and works for the Company.’ She made a face. ‘I’ve been trying to evade him all evening.’

‘In that case, may I offer you my arm and protection from all decent company.’ Dwight said and Caroline smiled. 

‘I think that is the best offer I have had all evening.’ she replied and took the offered arm. The walked off and Jim turned to Ross. 

‘An excellent diversion.’ he stated. ‘Now we can go and look for the person you’re supposed to be finding.’

Ross heaved a sigh. 

‘Very well.’ he said. ‘But I’ll need another drink.’


	11. A Clash of Wills

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There is a confrontation brewing...

The evening wore on and Ross was getting more and more annoyed. 

He had only the barest of clues as to the identity of the person whose acquaintance he wished to make. There was a code word he’d been given but whenever he’d slipped it into conversation he’d been met with nothing that indicated that he was speaking to the right person. Jim was also proving to be an annoyance, trailing him and listening in on every conversation. 

They were now talking to someone, a man who worked for the Harbour Master’s office. He was speaking at length about customs tariffs but he had also proven to be a dead end and Ross was already starting to get to the point where he was about to make his excuses and move on. Thankfully he spotted Dwight and nudged Jim and nodded. 

‘Excuse me.’ He addressed to the man. ‘I have just seen our friend that we came with and must have a word with him. Without bothering to make any further excuses, he walked off and headed for Dwight. When he got to him, Ross noticed that Caroline was with him as well as another man, tall and thin and gormless looking. 

‘Ross.’ Dwight gave him a broad smile. ‘I do not believe you have met Unwin Trevaunance.’

‘No.’ Ross regarded the man. ‘You are with the Company?’

‘I am.’ Unwin drew himself up. ‘I am the personal secretary of Cary Warleggan.’ He had obviously said this to impress and then seemed bemused when Ross didn’t fall over himself to feign fascination with this particular piece of information. 

‘Perhaps you have heard of my friend in that case.’ Dwight’s eyes were twinkling with mischief. ‘This is Ross Poldark.’

The effect his words had was quiet spectacular. Unwin went pale and took an involuntary step backwards. 

‘Poldark?’ he looked at Caroline who was smiling behind her fan. 

‘The very same.’ Ross glared at Dwight and was completely ignored. 

‘I think you have heard that name before.’ This came from behind him and then Jim stepped into their circle. 

‘And this is James Hawkins.’ Dwight was clearly enjoying himself. ‘Jim, Unwin is the personal secretary of Cary Warleggan.’

‘Really?’ Jim was also grinning. ‘Is that so?’ There was something in his intonation that put Ross on alert and he gave him a quick glance and noticed that Jim looked extremely pleased.

‘Yes.’ Unwin was starting to look like he would rather be anywhere but where he was. He turned to Caroline. ‘Please excuse me, my dear. I must speak with someone a moment.’  
He scuttled off before any of them could say another word. 

Caroline pursed her lips, now looking most perplexed.

‘That was quite an impressive feat.’ She laughed. ‘You have managed in a few sentences to do what I have not been able to accomplish in months.’

‘He is the one courting you?’ Jim had that look again, one that Ross was starting to be able to recognise. It meant he was interested and that was something that made Ross take note in turn. 

‘He is.’ Caroline’s tone clearly indicated her distaste. 

‘He is a lucky man.’ Dwight smiled. ‘You are a vision in carmine.’

It was clearly meant as simply a flirtacious comment but for a second Ross saw something flicker across Caroline’s face that gave him pause. 

Carmine was the code word he’d been given and for just a second, Caroline had looked like she was on alert. As quick as it had come it was gone, but Ross knew what he had seen. He fixed her with a piercing look and she met his eyes and he could see that she knew what he was thinking. 

‘Ross?’ Dwight was now tugging at his sleeve. ‘There are two men heading this way with rather meaningful looks on their faces.’

Ross turned and saw that Francis and another man he didn’t recognise were coming towards them.

‘Bugger.’ He looked at Jim.

‘Perhaps we should be going.’ Dwight suggested. ‘They do not look like they are in the mood for a friendly discussion.’

‘You may be right.’ Jim agreed. 

They were about to say goodbye when Francis stopped dead and his face contorted in fury. 

‘You!’ It was bellowed and the room fell quiet. 

‘Christ.’ Ross muttered. He looked at Caroline, knowing there was now time for niceties. ‘We have business to discuss.’

‘Tomorrow.’ Caroline said. ‘Come for tea.’ Her face as pale but her eyes were steady. She gave him a half smile. ‘Bring the chemist. I like him.’ With that she melted into the crowd and Ross turned back to face his enraged cousin. 

‘Francis.’ He met his gaze. 

‘How dare you show your face here!’ Francis was clearly drunk, his face red even in the glow of the candles that lit the whole room. ‘You have no right to be here!’ His companion tried to pacify him and Francis shook him off. 

‘This is getting better and better.’ Jim remarked and Francis turned furious eyes on him. 

‘And you!’ He jabbed an accusing finger at him. ‘You bastard!’ 

‘Now hold on a moment.’ Dwight stepped between them. ‘I feel that that is a bit strong.’ 

‘You stay the fuck out of this!’ Francis bellowed. There were gasps of astonishment from the people around him but he seemed beyond caring, flecks of spittle flying as he hissed out the next words. ‘My business is with the two men who have stolen what is mine!’

‘Stolen!’ Now Ross’ blood was up. ‘I am not the one that took in an ailing man and spent his money as if it was my own so that his son and rightful heir found nothing when he returned!’ 

‘I had every right to that!’ Francis swayed a little on his feet. ‘You buggered off and left everyone behind.’ His face became ugly and he suddenly looked past Ross. ‘Even my sainted bloody wife.’

Ross turned and saw that Elizabeth was standing there. She looked at him imploringly and he looked back at her. 

‘Ross.’ Jim’s voice was low and warning. ‘Perhaps we really should be going.’

Ross kept looking at Elizabeth. He could still read her so well, could see the shame and anger she was feeling at her husband’s humiliating display of temper but also something else that still simmered between them. 

He sighed and broke the look. 

‘I agree.’ He turned to Francis. ‘You will have no satisfaction from me tonight cousin. My work here is done.’ He turned back to Elizabeth. ‘Your wife looks unwell. You should stop this and take her home.’

Francis faltered and then seemed to see Elizabeth for the first time. He looked at her and then back at Ross. 

‘Yes.’ he hissed. ‘She is my wife now. And yet still she looks to you for comfort.’ He sneered at them. ‘She carries my son in her belly and yet she has no loyalty to me and mine. She is no better than a whore that is paid for her time.’

Ross froze. He was quite prepared to walk away from an insult to himself but an insult to Elizabeth was a step too far. He wheeled around and stormed across at pace, pointing threateningly at his cousin. 

‘Your wife deserves far better treatment that that which you are currently giving her!’ he roared. ‘Now apologise!’

‘Francis.’ The man behind him was looking around them. ‘This is most unwise.’

‘Be silent!’ Francis turned back to Ross. ‘I demand satisfaction, sir!’

‘That is quite enough.’ Jim had now stepped forward. He turned to Ross. ‘We need to leave. Now.’ He placed one hand to Ross’ chest. ‘Before something is agreed to that everyone regrets.’ 

Ross looked down at him and there was something in Jim’s eyes that got through the haze of anger. He sighed heavily and then backed down. 

‘You are right.’ He gave Francis one last glance. ‘Before something is said that cannot be undone.’

‘This way.’ Dwight said and the all turned and began walking from the room, the other guests falling away from them as they went to the terrace doors. 

They moved as one, and out through the doors and onto the terrace. Ross could hear Elizabeth’s voice behind them begging Francis to stay, but as soon as they came onto the grass he was outside and on the terrace steps. 

‘I demand satisfaction!’ he shouted, sounding for all the world like a spilt child demanding a favourite toy. ‘A duel, sir! I will have my way!’

‘Christ.’ Jim stopped and looked at Ross. ‘No!’

Ross ignored him, standing stock still. For a moment he tried to fight against the anger, tried to reason his way out of it. Then he gave up and turned around. The entire terrace was now crowded with onlookers and he knew there was no going back. 

The thing was, he didn’t care. 

‘A duel?’ He asked the words and the crowd fell silent and for a moment, Ross could have sworn he could see fear in his cousin’s eyes. 

‘Fuck.’ Jim muttered next to him. He turned to Dwight. ‘At this rate, we might end up being a twosome.’

‘Do you accept, sir? Or will you offer your apologies?’ This was the man with Francis. He had stepped forward and was now addressing Ross. ‘Which is it to be?’

‘I accept.’ Ross could now see Elizabeth coming through the crowd and her face was a picture of anguish. He smiled at how shocked she seemed, taking satisfaction in her obvious distress. ‘It’s time to settle this.’

‘In that case may I ask you to choose your second, sir?’ The man said and Ross instinctively turned to the man standing next to him. Jim glared back, their eyes locking and holding and Ross could feel the tension between them.

‘I can’t believe you’re doing this.’ He shook his head at Ross. ‘Yes. I will be your second.’

‘Thank you.’ Ross turned back. ‘I have my second, sir. Have you a mediator?’

‘I shall mediate.’ This was a loud voice at the back and Ross saw Lord Penvenen step through the gathered people. ‘There is an island but three miles from here that lies between two parishes. The river lies on the edge of my estate and I will be obliged if you will conduct this there.’

‘Of course.’ Francis was now looking quite taken aback. Ross felt a sense of satisfaction at the fact that he had probably never expected Ross to accept. He really should have known better, but then Francis had never ever had the measure of just how far Ross was willing to go. 

‘In that case, may I suggest that we do this immediately?’ Ross knew that he was pushing etiquette but he also knew that he had his cousin on the back foot. 

‘I have no pistol.’ Francis replied, now backtracking as everything seemed to be materialising all at once. ‘I will need time to get one.’

‘No need.’ Penvenen moved to the terrace steps. ‘I have a set that will do for this, should you gentlemen agree to utilise them.’

‘I have no objection.’ Ross looked at Francis. ‘What say you cousin?’ He knew that goading Francis was the best way to get him into a fluster. ‘Or will you retreat?’

‘I shall not!’ Francis spat.

‘Francis, no.’ Elizabeth implored and he spun around. 

‘This is your doing!’ he bellowed at her. ‘I would not be here but for you and your faithless heart!’ Elizabeth shrank back from him and he turned to another couple now standing with her. ‘Will you please escort my wife home? Her condition is far too delicate for doings such as these.’

Elizabeth threw him a final look, her dark eyes filled with something very close to hatred and then drew herself up and went inside. Penvenen beckoned to a servant and whispered to him. The footman disappeared and he came down the stairs. 

‘Gentlemen.’ He looked from Ross to Francis. ‘Shall we?’

***********

The river was at the bottom of the estate just as Lord Penvenen said it was. They walked down through the gardens and to a small jetty that was set into the bank. There was a row boat there and Francis and his second, the same man who’d come to his aid and who was named Jeffries, went across first with Penvenen, who had the box containing his duelling pistols tucked under one arm. As custom dictated, only those taking part would be allowed across including Penvenen and Dwight, who had offered his services in case of injury as the company had found there to be no doctors amongst them. 

Ross stood with his arms folded and watched the lantern light fade into the fog that was now rolling along the river. Next to him, Jim gave him an accusatory look. 

‘You could have just bloody apologised.’ he muttered and Ross shook his head. 

‘His insults were too much.’ He kept staring straight ahead. 

‘And all over a woman.’ Jim snorted. ‘She’s your sister, Ross.’

‘Only by marriage.’ Ross replied. ‘And I will thank you to say no more about the subject.’ 

‘Very well.’ Jim tossed his head. ‘When he shoots you through, I will be very happy to let you die and take everything. It will make my life considerably more convenient.’

Ross looked down at him. 

‘You have very little faith in me.’ His tone was mocking. 

‘I know that you’re clearly too impulsive for your own good.’ Jim retorted. ‘And if you get yourself killed tonight, I will not be overly bothered.’ He said it flippantly, but Ross heard a tinge of concern and smiled to himself. 

Perhaps the odd fascination between them was not only on his side after all. 

‘I won’t be killed.’ He unfolded his arms as the row boat came back into view. ‘The boat is here.’

‘Yes, I can see that.’ Jim huffed and went to climb in with Ross and Dwight following him. 

‘I must express my concern as well.’ Dwight said as they started to head out onto the river. ‘I fear that this is a development that is drawing too much attention.’

‘Perhaps.’ Ross saw the island come into view. There was a fire going and the servant manning the row boat guided them into a small hollow and stabilised the boat while they climbed out. 

Penvenen was standing under the tree next to the fire. An old woman wrapped in a moth-eaten shawl was sitting next to him and he nodded to her. 

‘The island belongs to this woman.’ he said. ‘It is customary to pay her a small amount for its use.’

Ross dug out a coin and flipped it through the air to her. She caught it neatly and bit it before it disappeared inside her bodice. On the other side of her, Francis was pacing back and forth.

‘Can we just bloody get on with this?’ he snarled. 

Penvenen opened the box he had bought with him and displayed the pistols. 

‘As is customary, I will ask the seconds to inspect and prepare the weapons.’ He held the box out and Jim and Jeffries came to him and each took a pistol. They checked them over and then exchanged them as was the correct practice. 

Penvenen gave them each a shot and wadding and a bag of powder and Jim came back, still looking daggers at Ross. 

‘This is bloody stupidity itself.’ He kept grumbling even as he prepared the pistol and then handed it to Ross. ‘Here. Try not to fucking die.’

‘I will.’ Ross stepped into position. Across from him, Francis had divested himself of his coat and was doing the same. They faced each other, taking up a position at a distance of twenty yards. 

‘As you are aware, you will each take three steps and then present and fire together.’ He gave them both a stern look. ‘Do you both understand?’

‘Yes, get on with it!’ Francis snapped. He was obviously so far gone he had no compunction in being as rude as he was. 

‘Agreed.’ Ross looked at the only blood family he had left and felt nothing. ‘I am ready.’

‘Ready.’ Francis lifted his pistol in salute. ‘I look forward to sending you to hell with your mad mother, cousin.’

Ross said nothing. He lifted his own pistol in salute and nodded to Penvenen. He felt rather than heard Jim move to stand to his side and slightly behind him. Penvenen nodded and raised his hands. 

‘One.’ he intoned and they both took a step forward. ‘Two. Three.’ 

They were now about twelve yards apart. Ross felt oddly exhilarated and yet also calmer than he had been for a long while. 

‘Present.’ Penvenen instructed and they both levelled their pistols. ‘Fire!’

Francis shot even before he’d finished saying the word and Ross staggered back as he as struck square in the chest without even getting his own shot off. He inhaled sharply, hearing Dwight exclaim behind him, and put a hand to his chest as he bent over. 

‘No.’ He held up a hand even as Dwight started to come towards him, then straightened up. 

‘Ross?’ Dwight looked wild eyed and then frowned as confusion flooded his features. He stared at Ross’ chest. ‘You are not hurt?’

‘No.’ Ross now turned back and looked at Francis, who’d gone pale. 

‘It cannot be…’ Francis started to tremble. 

‘Mr Poldark is still to take his shot.’ Penvenen reminded him. ‘Those are the accepted rules.’

Francis sucked in a deep breath and then stood still. He lifted his chin and Ross saw some of the Poldark defiance come back into him. 

‘Take the shot, Ross.’ He was now shaking like a leaf. 

Ross moved forward and placed the barrel of his pistol to Francis’ forehead. Their eyes met. 

‘That was a fine shot, cousin. It is a pity that it did not hit.’ His eyes did not waver. ‘I wonder. Your second is a Company man, is he not? Perhaps you should be wondering why he saw fit not to place shot in your weapon. It seems that your life might not be as valuable as you think it is.’

Francis frowned and then everyone turned their eyes on Jeffries. He looked horrified and then turned and ran for it. 

Ross wasted no time in shooting him through the back of the head and he collapsed into the dirt with his skull blown to pieces. Francis made an involuntary sound and stared at his now dead second. When he turned back to Ross, he was wild-eyed. 

‘I think we are done here.’ Ross handed his pistol back to Penvenen. ‘I hope you are now satisfied, Francis.’ He took a step forward, looming into Francis’ space. ‘But I urge you to care for your wife far better than you seem to have been of late. I will have no hesitation in stepping in again should I hear her insulted.’ 

Francis nodded, unable to speak and Ross left him, striding down to the boat. Dwight and Jim followed him and they made their way back to the shore. The gathered crowd let them through, watching them pass in silence. Ross noticed that Jim seemed to be in a fine snit and he and Dwight exchanged looks but said nothing. It was only when they got back to the house and were waiting for their horses to be bought that Jim finally spoke. 

‘You were lucky.’ He fixed Ross with a look. ‘You better have a good explanation as to why you did that.’ 

‘Maybe I do.’ Ross took Bathsheba’s reins from the attendant. ‘Personally, I am more interested in how you know the Penvenens.’ 

‘I told you already.’ Jim settled into the saddle and glared at him. ‘They come to the theatre to watch my performances.’

They all started down the drive, Dwight riding between them and remaining silent as they continued talking. 

‘I wonder if it is that.’ Ross looked across at Jim. ‘Or is it the fact that you are perhaps mixed up in something else entirely.’

‘Are you talking about that odd exchange with Caroline?’ Dwight asked and Ross nodded, pleased at how quickly the chemist had caught on. 

‘I got a reaction when I used the word.’ He was still watching Jim’s face. ‘She’s Carmine.’

‘The American spy?’ Dwight was aghast. ‘Her?’

‘Yes.’ Ross smiled. ‘And I think Jim already knew that.’ 

He waited and got a smile that surprised him. Jim’s eyes were unreadable, but he seemed to be reassessing him. 

‘You know about Carmine?’ he asked and Ross nodded. 

‘I know enough to seek them out. Or should I now rather say seek her out?’ He kicked Bathsheba into a trot. ‘So here is what I propose. We need to have a conversation, you and I. I want to know everything and in exchange I will do the same and tell you just what I am planning. Agreed?’

Jim nodded. 

‘Agreed.’ he replied.


	12. Revelations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time for that long overdue conversation...

They dropped the horses off and walked the rest of the way back to the house. Jim was nursing a bad temper and every time he looked at Ross’ profile caught by the street lanterns he felt a fresh surge of anger. Joshua had told him about his son, how impetuous and hot-headed Ross was, but Jim had been caught off guard by Ross’ seeming lack of concern for his own wellbeing. It was forcing him to re-evaluate everything and when Ross had suggested they tell each other just what was in it for them, Jim’s first instinct had been to say no. 

His second had been to tell him some of what was the truth. He could almost ensure that Ross would be doing the same. 

He kept walking, trying not to look over at the tall figure on the other side of Dwight. Jim was not given to assignations that had complications. Joshua and he had had an understanding, but Joshua had been far from his only lover and Jim didn’t play favourites. The fact that Ross was infuriating him as much as he was made Jim nervous. Infuriating meant he was developing an attraction and that was something he definitely wanted to avoid as far as possible. 

It was difficult though. Ross was extremely handsome, the scar on his face and his habit of scowling almost all of the time making him doubly attractive. Jim had an eye for a handsome man. It was part of what had made him give Joshua the time of day, and he had to admit that Joshua’s son far exceeded his father on that count. 

As if reading his mind, Ross glanced at him and Jim looked away quickly. Ross said nothing, just kept loping along until they got to the gate of the house. He went through and opened the front door and Jim and Dwight were about to follow him, when Dwight caught Jim’s arm and tugged him back. 

‘Should I be party to this conversation?’ he asked and Jim looked at him. He saw something in Dwight’s eyes, a question that he knew he had to answer. 

‘How far in are you?’ he asked and Dwight shrugged. 

‘I have no family here, no wife or children to care for. Ross has offered me a great deal of money to aid him in his endeavour. I have accepted the offer and am about to help him do something very illegal. So the answer to that would be up to my eyebrows, I would imagine.’ he replied.

‘In that case, nothing I say is going to incriminate you any further.’ Jim chuckled. ‘Now let’s go in before he gets it in his head that we are conspiring against him.’ 

They went in and found Ross in the parlour standing by the fire he’d now rekindled. Black Dog was whining at his side and he was absently stroking her head and toying with her ears. It made Jim smile a little. There was gentleness in the man but is was hidden very deep under all that bluster and brooding. It made Jim wander just what else might bring it out. 

Ross certainly had principles, evidenced by his leaping to his step-sister’s defence, which Jim admired. Silver had brought him up with a strict code of honour, although it was one that was frowned upon by society and the law, but he could appreciate someone who wasn’t afraid to get into a fray purely because he was afraid. Jim had a feeling there wasn’t an ounce of fear in Ross, especially after watching him at the duel. There was also not an ounce of mercy, if the quick ruthless way he’d dealt with Jeffries was any indication.

Ross turned and looked at them. 

‘This could go on a while.’ He nodded at the chairs. ‘Sit. I’ll go get a bottle.’ He walked in the direction of the kitchen and no doubt down into the cellar. 

Jim went to stand by the fire, feeling the warmth steal into him. Behind him, Dwight was taking off his coat and hat and hanging them up. He came to stand next to Jim. 

‘What is your tale then?’ His blue eyes were filled with curiosity. Jim smiled.

‘You’ve no doubt been making your own enquiries.’ He replied. ‘You are not half as uninformed as you pretend to be.’

‘No, I’m not.’ Dwight smiled in turn. ‘And my informants have told me that until three years ago, Jim Hawkins the actor didn’t exist. That means one of two things – either you are labouring under an alias or you were not in England and have come back from somewhere far away.’ He narrowed his eyes at Jim. ‘Is that how you know Caroline?’

‘In a way.’ Jim said. ‘Her father ran a plantation, are you aware of that? He lost it in the war.’

‘No, I did not know that.’ Dwight frowned. ‘I am assuming her parents do not have a clue as to her political inclinations.’

‘No, they don’t.’ Jim sighed. ‘And what she does would get her hanged Dwight, so you must be careful. Caroline is not only beautiful but dangerous as well and she would not hesitate to slit your throat should she feel threatened.’

‘I am starting to like her more and more.’ Dwight chuckled. 

The sound of a scuffle made them both wheel around and they saw Ross coming back into the parlour with a bottle of brandy in one hand and a wriggling Demelza in the other. 

‘Look what I found in the cellar.’ He gave her a push into the light and her little face lit up when she saw Jim. 

‘Jim.’ She walked straight into his arms. ‘Ross is being mean to me.’

‘The cellar is no place for a child to sleep.’ Ross admonished. ‘It’s half flooded and freezing down there. You should go home.’

‘There’s no home to go to.’ Demelza retorted. ‘You made us move, remember? And the theatre lodgings are too far from the docks. I can’t see my friends.’

‘Christ.’ Ross handed Dwight the bottle. ‘Is Mary at the lodgings?

‘She’s out working.’ Demelza had a look of pure stubbornness on her face. ‘She don’t trust to leave me in the city so she told me to come with and find a place to sleep for the night.’ She was still clinging to Jim, arms tight around his waist. 

‘She has a point.’ Jim said. ‘I wouldn’t leave her there either.’ He gave Ross a meaningful look. ‘She’s correct in saying that this is your doing through.’

‘And yours.’ Ross reminded him. ‘Very well. You can stay here. But only for tonight.’ He went to the parlour door and yelled for Jud. 

Demelza looked up at Jim and grinned. 

‘A real bed?’ She sounded like she could hardly believe her luck. Jim smiled at her. 

‘A real bed. And dinner if you can convince him.’ He looked at Ross. ‘I doubt she’s eaten this evening.’ 

‘For God’s sake.’ Ross muttered. He glared at the child. ‘If I feed you, will you go to bed and not listen in on the stairs or pester us any further?’

Demelza nodded and let go of Jim, just in time for a sleepy looking Jud to come into the room.

‘What the bloody ‘ell do you call this?’ he grumbled. 

‘This is a child.’ Ross said with a completely straight face. ‘You are aware of the concept, I imagine.’

‘None of your cheek, boy.’ Jud looked at Demelza, who was staring back in that bold way of hers. ‘Where did you come from then?’

‘The river.’ she replied promptly.

‘She needs feeding and putting to bed.’ Ross instructed. ‘We have business to discuss.’

‘Bloody dogs and bloody ragamuffins.’ Jud shook his head but held out his hand all the same. ‘Come on, lass. We’ll find you something suitable for a child. Christ knows you won’t find it in ‘ere.’

Ross watched them leave and Jim watched Ross. In the firelight, the red highlights in his hair stood out and his dark eyes took on the warm glow of honey. 

‘So.’ Dwight was at the table pouring out the brandy. ‘Is it my turn to play mediator?’ 

‘A good point.’ Jim said, mostly to shake himself out of his mood. ‘How exactly are we to go about this?’

‘I ask questions and you answer them.’ Ross accepted his glass. 

‘In that case, I shall have to insist on the kindness being returned.’ Jim replied. ‘So shall I suggest that for every question you ask, I get to ask one in return?’

‘I accept those terms.’ Ross moved to sit down. ‘But I get to ask first.’

‘By all means.’ Jim took his glass from Dwight with a nod of thanks. ‘Ask away.’

‘Let’s start with that.’ Ross nodded at the door leading to the kitchen. ‘Demelza.’

‘She’s Mary’s daughter.’ Jim grinned. ‘Come now, you have to try harder than that. My turn, I believe.’

Ross snorted and glared at him over the top of his glass. 

‘Ask.’ It was almost a bark. Jim smiled. 

‘Your history with the company goes back a lot deeper than just this.’ He leaned forward. ‘Joshua told me about his dealings with them. You were a cadet until he broke with them and then you up and bugger off five years ago and no-one could find you. Did you go to them?’

‘I did.’ Ross drank and then sighed heavily. ‘The night I left I went to Warleggan. He had been in charge of the cadets and knew me.’

‘So where did you go then?’ This was from Dwight and he got a twin pair of stern looks and held up his hand in mollification. ‘Apologies for speaking out of turn.’ 

‘Back to the matter at hand then.’ Ross looked at Jim. ‘How are you acquainted with Mary Read and don’t bloody tell me some cock and bull story.’

‘Mary’s husband was the quartermaster on my ship.’ Jim replied, just to see the surprise on Ross’ face.

‘Your…?’ He looked a little astonished and Jim grinned. ‘Ship?’

‘Yes.’ Jim sipped his brandy, feeling delighted that he was now in the lead. ‘I’m not an actor by trade, Ross.’

‘Ah.’ Dwight interjected. ‘So I was correct on the second count.’

‘You were indeed.’ Jim confirmed. ‘And in answer to your other question, James Hawkins is my given name.’

‘But not the one you went by.’ Dwight’s eyes twinkled. ‘That I will wager.’

‘Very good.’ Jim laughed. ‘No. When I went to sea, I changed my name.’

‘To what?’ Ross broke in, now looking extremely curious. 

‘James Silver.’ Jim replied. ‘It’s the name of the man who took me in, in a manner of speaking. He was the captain of the ship I was on and he adopted me as his own when we got word my mother had passed a year after I left.’ He drank. ‘Now I believe it’s my turn. Where did the company send you and on what business?’ 

‘Africa.’ Ross replied. ‘I was aboard a ship called the Aphrodite. She was a merchant ship bound for the East Indies.’ His dark eyes were intense and Jim felt like he could fall in and drown in them. ‘What ship were you on?’

‘A merchant brig called the Hispaniola.’ The lie came easily to Jim’s lips. He had told it enough times to make it sound like the truth and Ross gave no sign he didn’t believe him. ‘We usually transported sugar from the Caribbean and America to England before we were attacked and the ship taken.’

That made Ross and Dwight both sit up and take notice. 

‘The Company attacked your ship?’ Ross looked deeply suspicious, dark brows drawn down. ‘Why would they do that?’

‘Competition.’ Jim replied smoothly. ‘They had been trying to buy us out for years. Silver was not amenable to being a contracted captain and he refused every offer they made him. So on our last run up the coast, they captured our ship under the pretence of arresting us for treasonous activity.’ 

The lie was perilously close to the truth, but Jim found that was the best approach. It was true that the Hispaniola had been captured by the Company, but the circumstances were different to what he presented. Silver had long held a grudge against the Company. His history made him hate them with a fierce passion, ever since that first dark voyage when he’d been barely out of childhood. He’d only been a few years older than Jim when he’d been sold into slavery and brought across to the Caribbean. His escape from his plight had come with the death of the man that had called himself Silver’s master and Silver had had a death sentence on his head since that very day. It had been fate that had brought him into service on the Hispaniola and to the attention of a small blond haired boy who had been enlisted as cabin boy on a voyage made under truly bizarre circumstances. 

‘So you were a sailor.’ Ross sounded like he was mulling something over. 

‘I was.’ Jim replied. ‘For the ten years I was aboard. But then the Hispaniola was attacked and taken and I found myself without employment. I made my way to London and here I am.’ He leaned back in his chair. ‘If your voyage was to the East Indies, how did you end up roaming around for five years?’

‘The Aphrodite went down in a storm off the Cape of Good Hope.’ Ross replied. ‘I was fortunate enough to survive.’ He shrugged. ‘It seemed like as good a place as any to stay put a while. Almost losing my life made me reconsider my options and I regretted leaving England in the first place.’ 

‘This is incredible.’ Dwight was looking from one to the other. ‘Here I am, never having even left the bloody city, and you two turn out to have been all over the bloody place.’ He refilled their glasses. 

‘It is far less exciting than it sounds.’ Ross muttered. He was looking at Jim again. ‘How did you get away from the ship? The Company isn’t in the habit of leaving witnesses.’ 

‘I’m a good swimmer and we were close to land.’ Jim replied. ‘Silver gave the order to abandon ship when it became clear that we were fighting a losing battle. He didn’t want us to be taken and some of us weren’t.’ He looked into the fire. ‘The ones that were taken though…’

‘The Company executed them.’ Ross finished. ‘I know how they work.’ He had another look on his face. ‘How many of you made it away?’

‘Four of us.’ Jim replied. ‘Mary and Demelza were allowed to live.’

‘They were aboard the ship?’ Ross’ voice was sharp. 

‘They were.’ Jim sighed. ‘Mary had to watch her husband hanged. The only reason they let them go was because they were not men. But she did live to tell us what had happened.’

‘Why didn’t she try to escape?’ Dwight asked. 

‘Because Dem was only seven and could not have made the swim.’ Jim replied. ‘Mary would not abandon her daughter.’

‘But you did?’ Ross said, his words now harsh. 

‘If we had stayed, we would have hanged alongside the rest.’ Jim shot back. ‘Mary knew they wouldn’t hang her. The Company has some morals, few as they might be, and hanging a white woman was a step too far. She gambled on that and it paid off. She and Dem were set down on land and left to fend for themselves.’

‘That was as good as killing them.’ Dwight said. 

‘Yes, but at least that way they could claim not to have blood on their hands.’ Jim didn’t bother to disguise his bitterness.

‘Aye.’ Ross nodded. He was staring into the fire and Jim wondered what was going through his mind. He looked lost in that moment, his face showing that he was miles away. 

‘How long were you in Africa?’ he asked.

‘All the time.’ Ross replied, not looking up. ‘I travelled the length of the continent. I’ve been a mercenary, a hunter and a prospector. The last time I was in Cape Town, I ran into a man my father had had in his employ. He told me that he was ill and that he had taken to his bed. That was when I decided to return to England.’ He seemed to come back into himself and took a drink. ‘Except when I arrived I sent for news and heard that he was dead.’ 

And that’s where we come into the picture.’ Dwight asked and Ross nodded. 

‘It is.’ He looked back at the fire. ‘But I am still curious as to Jim’s involvement in this.’

‘Not much to tell.’ Jim said, selecting his words carefully. ‘When I came to London I had to make a living. Silver always encouraged my education even while at sea and I had a volume of Shakespeare to pass the time. Mary had her charms to fall back on, but I felt that way of life was not for me. So I tried my hand at theatre and found that I had a natural bent for it. It was how I met Joshua and so our association began.’

‘And so here we find ourselves.’ Ross chuckled. ‘Two merchants and a chemist.’ He shook his head. ‘It all sounds perfectly legitimate.’

‘So it does.’ Jim replied and drank, not believing a word of it.

*********

It was in the small hours of the morning when Dwight finally left to go to bed. Jim and Ross bid him goodnight and kept drinking. There was silence between them until Jim heard Ross draw in a breath. 

‘You are lying.’ he said. ‘Your ship was no merchantman. The only reason the Company would have taken you is because you were suspected of piracy.’

Jim smiled into his glass. He knew that Ross was clever enough to spot that little detail and wondered again why he had not told a better lie. It did occur to him that maybe he hadn’t because he had found someone that hated the Company as much as he did. He had spotted a few details of his own on that count. 

‘I could say the same thing.’ He regarded Ross, watching for any giveaway signs. ‘One doesn’t simply walk away from the Company without reason. Your ship was bound for the Indies and you said it was sunk off the Cape of Good Hope. That means you were on a routine voyage and could have simply picked up the next company ship that came through.’

‘And your point is?’ Ross asked, but his face had tightened. Jim could tell he was annoyed at being caught out. 

‘My point is that the children have all gone to bed.’ He decided to lay everything out. After all, if his suspicions were correct, Ross was hiding just as much as he was. ‘Care to have another round of questions?’ 

‘I agree.’ Ross was now alert, every part of him tense with anticipation. ‘And I will give you the chance to ask first.’ 

‘What cargo was your ship really carrying?’ Jim asked. He had an idea what it would be but wanted to hear Ross confirm it. 

‘Slaves.’ Ross replied. ‘Was the Hispaniola a pirate ship?’

‘Yes.’ Jim replied. ‘How did you come by the wealth you’ve been throwing around?’

‘I killed a man who’d buried a fortune in stolen diamonds the last he was in the country. I got him to tell me where they were.’ Ross leaned forward, his dark eyes glittering. ‘Were you my father’s whore?’

‘No.’ Jim was smiling again, a strange exhilaration filling him. ‘But I did fuck him.’

‘So you lied.’ Ross’ return smile was razor sharp.

‘I did not.’ Jim retorted. ‘I bedded him out of choice, not for money.’

‘And ended up with half my inheritance.’ Ross pointed out. ‘So you’ll forgive my cynicism.’ 

‘I will.’ Jim was now thoroughly enjoying himself. ‘The slaves were from Africa?’

‘Yes.’ Ross replied. ‘And bound for South America. The sinking happened as I told it, but it was further up the coast. The captain and officers abandoned ship and left the cadets and slaves to their fate, but not after ordering us to nail the hatches shut.’ His voice was flat. ‘There were no other survivors apart from myself.’

‘The man you killed?’ Jim asked and Ross nodded. 

‘The captain.’ he confirmed. ‘He claimed the insurance on the ship in Cape Town and converted it into uncut stones. I tracked him down and got my revenge for leaving us to our fate and made a tidy profit at the same time.’ His next question took Jim by surprise. ‘Did you love him?’

‘Who? Your father?’ The notion made Jim laugh. ‘Christ no. I don’t fuck for love, Ross. Love is a dangerous game that can get you killed. Your father wanted companionship and I gave it to him when I chose. I was not faithful and I was not exclusively his. He accepted that and we had a mutually enjoyable time together when I was in London.’

‘So it was just business then?’ Ross asked. 

‘Of a kind.’ Jim tapped the edge of his glass with one finger. ‘You were running from the Company?’

‘They wanted us dead.’ Ross said, now devoid of all emotion. ‘They left us on that ship because we were expendable.’ His eyes were fierce. ‘Their mistake was not checking that we were all dead. Now I am back to take everything away from them. Who is Silver?’

‘He is my captain and my father.’ Jim replied. ‘I told the truth about that. What I didn’t tell you was that we met on a merchant ship and mutinied. I helped Silver kill the men who’d bought me with them and took a place in his crew. He raised me to manhood and taught me everything I know.’ 

‘A pirate.’ Ross bowed his head and for a moment Jim was at a loss. Then he realised that Ross’ shoulders were shaking with silent laughter. ‘I am in league with a fucking pirate.’

‘Several actually.’ Jim corrected. ‘It wasn’t just myself and Mary that came to London.’

Ross raised his head. 

‘And the ship?’ he was now obviously thinking ahead. 

‘She is being auctioned in two days’ time.’ Jim informed him. ‘I was going to enlist your help in acquiring her, seeing as how you will need a ship to get you to where you wish to be.’

‘Very clever.’ Ross sounded like he was trying to hide his admiration, but Jim could hear it in his voice. ‘Why did the Company attack you?’

‘Because Silver was brought to Trinidad as a slave by the Company and escaped.’ Jim explained. ‘The ships we attacked were always slavers and merchantmen of the Company. We never pressed any man into service, although there were plenty who joined willingly. The others we took to places where they could live free. The Company and Silver have been at odds for a very long time and we were lucky to escape with our lives, but there is a heavy debt that is owed and we mean to take it out of the Company in blood.’

‘That’s why you want the island.’ Ross smiled again. ‘It’s the perfect base to attack the ships on the East Indies trade routes.’

‘Yes.’ Jim smiled in reply. ‘And you want the island to close off all trade to China and give it to the Americans. All to fuck with the Company.’

‘I am not the only one interested in fucking the Company.’ Ross chuckled. ‘Is there anything else?’

‘We are no longer pirates.’ Jim said. ‘I have in my possession a letter of marque from the Americans. The Hispaniola is now a privateer once we get her back.'

‘Was that arranged by Caroline?’ Ross enquired. 

‘No. We had just received it when we were attacked. We brought it with us and I hold it for safekeeping.’ Jim leaned back. ‘Caroline is simply our contact in London for when things are in place and we can return.’ 

‘I see.’ Ross smiled. 

‘What is your interest in her?’ Jim asked. 

‘She’s going to give me a letter that will allow me safe passage through the American blockade.’ Ross replied. ‘I am buying my way through with gunpowder, which is where Dwight fits in.’

Of course.’ Jim was impressed. ‘An ingenious scheme.’ 

‘I am glad you approve.’ Ross’ voice had a little rumble of laughter in it and for the first time, Jim felt like he was seeing the real man underneath. ‘I must say that I am astonished by how things have turned out.’

‘It’s been a night for revelations.’ Jim drained his glass. ‘But I must now go to bed. I have a performance this afternoon.’

‘And when you get back, we will discuss buying this ship of yours.’ Ross settled into his chair. 

‘You’re not retiring?’ Jim asked and he shook his head. 

‘Not yet. I have a few things to think over.’ He was staring into the fire again. 

Jim gave him a long look and then left him to go to bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my :DDD Could that be friendship on the horizon?


	13. A Deed and A Mill

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ross and Dwight visit Caroline.
> 
> See end notes for T/W.

Ross woke with Jud shaking him gently by the shoulder.

‘You fell asleep in the chair, lad.’ He was smiling and there was a wistfulness to it. ‘You gave me such a start. For a moment I thought it was your father. He used to fall asleep in that very chair.’

‘I know.’ Ross rubbed the sleep from his eyes. ‘What time is it?’

‘A little after seven.’ Jud straightened up. ‘Maybe you should go get a few more hours. You were up late.’

‘That is not a bad idea.’ Ross stretched. ‘I have in invitation to tea so be sure to wake me at twelve if I am not already up.’

‘I will.’ Jud moved around the parlour collecting the glasses. ‘Go to bed, boy.’ 

Ross got up and stumbled from the room. He was tired, the previous night’s revelations having left him thinking for at least another hour after Jim had gone up. By that time the sky had started to change colour and Ross had meant to only close his eyes for a second. 

He mounted the stairs one at a time, still fatigued enough to almost fall asleep on his feet. At the landing, he noticed that Jim’s door was ajar and frowned. He went over and peered through the gap and then pushed the door open just enough to get a clear view of the bed. Jim was on his side, still dressed apart from waistcoat and boots. Demelza was next to him, curled up against him like a kitten, and they were both fast asleep. She had obviously made the trip from the room across the corridor when Jim had come up.

Ross came into the room, moving quietly so as not to wake them. He stood at the side of his father’s bed and regarded the pair. Jim had one arm wrapped protectively around Demelza and Ross found himself wondering if he’d acted as her older brother while they were on the ship. Jim would no doubt have been a child when Demelza was born and Ross could see him behaving in that way. They were certainly very comfortable with each other. He thought about Elizabeth and felt unsettled. Their relationship had been anything but that of siblings. 

Jim shifted in his sleep and then woke. He peered up at Ross with sleepy blue-green eyes and frowned. 

‘Is it time to get up yet?’ he asked, voice rough. Ross shook his head. 

‘Not yet.’ He looked down at Demelza and Jim smiled. 

‘She’s always done this.’ he explained, stroking Demelza’s curls back from her face. ‘Since she could walk. Mary used to let her sleep in my hammock with me. I never had any siblings, so it was nice to not be alone.’

‘They are your family.’ Ross felt an odd twinge inside him as he realised that what he said was true. 

‘They are what’s left of my family.’ Jim replied, looking at him. Even half asleep, he still seemed to be taking Ross’ measure. ‘It’s why this is so important to me.’

Ross returned his gaze and Jim stared back, no deception evident in his eyes. It felt like this was the most honest they had been with each other so far. 

‘I understand.’ He broke the look. ‘I am going to bed. I’ll be taking Dwight with me to Caroline’s later.’

‘And then?’ Jim asked. 

‘And then we are taking a little excursion.’ Ross replied. ‘Dwight has a place to show me.’ He gave Jim a wry smile. ‘I feel like in the spirit of our new partnership I should tell you it’s where we will be making the gunpowder.’

‘In that case, keep its location to yourself.’ Jim was smiling in reply. ‘I don’t need to tell you that it’s a hazardous process.’ 

‘I am trusting our learned friend to make sure nothing explodes, including us.’ Ross turned away as he spoke, moving to the door. He stopped just before he left the room. ‘I shall come by the theatre to collect you once the performance is finished. Then we can discuss our other business.’

‘Very well.’ Jim was already settling back down. Next to him, Demelza made a soft sound and her little hands tightened their grip on his shirt. ‘I shall wait for you.’ 

Ross nodded once and left the room, closing the door quietly behind him. He went to the attic stairs and climbed up. Once inside, he shed his boots and clothes, climbing into bed and falling asleep almost as soon as his head hit the pillows. 

*********

Elizabeth lifted her head at the sound of the front door. She was in the front room, wrapped in her dressing gown. Her face was tear stained, but she could no longer recall who she had shed the most tears for. She sat there, stiff backed and trembling with anticipation as heavy footsteps sounded in the hall and the came to the door.

‘You’re awake.’ Francis sounded terrible. His words were slurred and Elizabeth didn’t need to look to know he was stinking drunk. She could smell it on him. She shut her eyes against the dreadful thought that he must have killed Ross to be standing here talking to her. 

‘I was waiting for news.’ Her voice wavered. Francis snorted and walked across to the sideboard and poured himself a drink. 

‘Ah.’ His voice was thick with self-pity and what sounded close to hatred. ‘But was it for news of myself or your beloved step-brother, I wonder.’ He threw the brandy back in one gulp. 

Elizabeth swallowed, her mouth as dry as desert sand. 

‘You, of course.’ She could barely bring herself to say the words. ‘You are my husband.’

Francis looked at her and his face was ugly. He set the glass down very deliberately and then strode across the room, too quick for her to evade. His hand was around her throat before she could scream and he shook her hard enough to make her feel like her neck would snap. 

‘Lying bitch.’ he roared and then he lifted his hand. 

The first blow set her ears ringing and Elizabeth choked out a single cry before he struck her again and again. This was not done with an open hand this time, and the blows rained down. Elizabeth felt her lip split and tasted her own blood, her hands going to protect her stomach as she fell to the ground. It didn’t stop him, however, and she lay there as he knelt over her and beat her bloody, beat her until she could no longer see or hear and all she could feel was agony. 

The final indignity came with a kick to her abdomen and then she felt real fear for the first time as her body was wracked with spasms. She screamed and kept screaming as she felt wetness flood her thighs and knew that something was terribly wrong.

********

Ross woke again, this time with a start. He felt an odd kind of dread deep in his gut and turned over. The attic was empty, but he felt like there was a presence lurking just beyond what he could see. He lay still, heart pounding as the fear slowly started to drain from him. Even as it ebbed, he heard footsteps and then Jud appeared at the doorway. He came in with a ewer of steaming hot water and a cloth over his arm. 

‘You’re awake.’ He placed the jug on the table. ‘It’s a quarter to twelve, if you’re interested.’

Ross sat up. He realised he was ravenous. 

‘I need breakfast.’ he growled. ‘Lots of it.’

‘Good luck.’ Jud retorted. ‘That little minx is eatin’ us out of ‘ouse and ‘ome.’ He stomped off and Ross found himself smiling. 

He got up, washed and dressed and then descended. Jud was in the kitchen with Dwight and Demelza, who was busy ploughing through a bowl of oatmeal. Her cheeks were stuffed like a hamster’s and Jud was tutting at her and telling her off for her manners.

‘Morning.’ Dwight sounded cheery. ‘Jim’s just left for the theatre.’ He grinned at Demelza. ‘And I thought I would accompany the young lady to breakfast.’ He gave Jud a grin of thanks when Jud placed a plate full of eggs and bacon in front of him. ‘Thank you, my good man.’

Jud muttered something about taking in strays and went back to the kitchen. Ross sat down and poured himself a cup of coffee. 

‘Are you ready for our little adventure?’ he asked and Dwight nodded. He looked utterly delighted at the prospect. 

‘I am.’ He helped himself to a piece of bread from the loaf sitting on the table top. ‘I shall count myself lucky every chance I get to look upon the fair Caroline.’

‘Who’s Caroline?’ Demelza looked at Ross.

‘Never you mind.’ Ross took a sip and grimaced. He reached for the sugar and added four spoons to his cup. 

‘Oi.’ Jud admonished as he came back in. ‘That’s bleedin’ expensive, that is.’

‘And I pay for it.’ Ross reminded him. ‘So I’ll have as much as I want.’ He waited for Jud to put down his food and started eating, not raising his head until he was done. He finally looked up and saw that all three of them were watching him. Ross ignored their looks and had another cup of coffee to wash it all down. 

He and Dwight left Jud bribing Demelza with biscuits to help him with the dishes and made their way down to get the horses.

‘So, do we have a plan for this engagement?’ Dwight asked after they had mounted up and started the ride to Kensington. 

‘Not really.’ Ross admitted. ‘I am hoping that there won’t be any bluster about it, I really cannot afford the time.’

‘Yes, but Caroline is a lady of breeding and intelligence.’ Dwight countered. ‘Perhaps a little verbal jousting will amuse her.’

‘And I think that is precisely why I am bringing you along.’ Ross chuckled. ‘You’re my diversionary tactic of necessary.’ 

‘I would be offended except that I am very much looking forward to seeing her again.’ Dwight grinned. ‘She is a remarkable young woman.’

‘Be careful.’ Ross gave him a sidelong look. ‘You’ll be smitten before you know it and then you’ll be useless to me.’ 

‘To be completely honest with you, I fear that is not far off.’ Dwight had a dreamy look on his face. ‘She is beautiful and clever and what’s more she has a wit that most simply do not. She is a fine creature.’ He sighed somewhat dramatically. ‘What a pity class divides us.’

Ross turned and looked at him, his expression clearly indicating he didn’t believe what he was hearing. 

‘And that is an obstacle because?’ he asked. ‘Surely you of all people do not care about social mores any more than I do.’

‘True.’ Dwight chuckled. ‘But I would have to keep a woman like that in the style she is accustomed to.’

‘And when we have our plan in place you will be able to.’ Ross said. He looked ahead and his face got an odd look on it. ‘I should have worried less about what society thought.’

‘You’re thinking of Elizabeth.’ Dwight’s eyes were sharp. ‘What happened between you two, if I may ask?’

‘We fell in love.’ Ross replied. ‘Her mother hated me. She thought me afflicted by the same madness as my mother and wanted us to have no association. The fact that we were effectively siblings made it even more reprehensible as far as she was concerned.’

‘And Joshua?’ Dwight was now watching him intently. 

‘He took her part when we were discovered.’ Ross shifted in the saddle, his long held anger rising to the surface. ‘It was bad enough that he sent my mother away and replaced her with that simpering bitch, but he should have supported me. He should have overruled her. There was nothing morally wrong with our relationship. We are not related by blood, only by an ill-advised marriage.’

‘And now she is married to your cousin.’ Dwight frowned. ‘Why didn’t you kill him? It would have left the way clear for you.’

‘I do not want Elizabeth by default.’ Ross muttered. ‘I wish her to choose me because she still feels the same way she felt before I left.’ He felt a curl of guilt as he said that, knowing that the word abandon was more correct in this situation. Elizabeth had been right to throw it in his face, and he was now only starting to realise that his anger was more than likely matched by hers. 

‘Perhaps she will.’ Dwight offered. ‘It certainly sounds like her marriage is not a happy one.’

‘Francis is weak.’ Ross snorted. ‘He always has been. This agreement with the Company was done for his sake.’

‘And now you’ve gone and scuppered it.’ Dwight said. ‘No wonder he was so out of sorts.’

The understatement made Ross bark out a laugh. 

‘You have an odd way of looking at things.’ he remarked.

‘No odder than yours.’ Dwight retorted. ‘Or Jim’s for that matter.’ He grinned. ‘I know that what he told us last night was a grand fib. He’s a consummate liar, I’ll give him that, but something didn’t ring true.’

‘Well, that is his to tell you when he sees fit.’ Ross replied as neutrally as he could. 

‘And yours?’ Dwight asked. ‘When will you tell me yours?’ He laughed at Ross’ look of mild outrage. ‘You are almost as good a liar as he is, but not a perfect one. But do not worry. I know it’s probably better for me to not know the details. Plausible deniability and all that.’

‘I am not so sure about that now.’ Ross replied. ‘You’re about to help me convince an American spy to give us aid in return for illegally manufactured gunpowder.’

‘A good point.’ Dwight laughed so loudly he startled his gelding into a trot. 

They eventually arrived at the Penvenen estate and rode up the drive. The house was even more magnificent in daylight and they dismounted and handed over the horses at the door. 

A butler met them at the front door and ushered them inside once they had given their names, casting a critical eye over their regular clothing which was far from the finery they had worn the previous evening. 

‘Lady Caroline is waiting for you.’ He looked down his long nose at them. ‘If you will follow me, please.’ 

He led them to a room at the side of the house. It was not one they had seen the night before and it was decorated in the latest Oriental fashion with thick rugs and heavy teak furniture. Caroline was seated on a chaise upholstered in silk and she smiled and held out a hand as they approached once the butler had announced them. Her dress this day was emerald green and set off with a silk ribbon under the bust. Her golden hair was curled and pinned up and she had a necklace of seed pearls and emerald around her neck, setting off her rather radiant beauty. Ross did notice that most of it stemmed from the merriness in her eyes and the warmth of her smile. It was so different to Elizabeth’s frosty loveliness. 

Ross heard Dwight take in an audible breath next to him and hid a smile. 

‘Lady Caroline.’ He greeted her. ‘Thank you very much for seeing us.’

‘You look less formidable in the daylight.’ Caroline replied, gesturing for them to take a seat on the sofa opposite her. ‘I was curious.’ She looked at Dwight and Ross could see the admiration was apparently mutual. ‘How are you today, my little chemist?’

‘Blessed to be in your company.’ Dwight smiled and came over to kiss her hand. 

Caroline’s eyes were sparkling as she watched them sit. 

‘So here we find ourselves.’ She reached for a small silver bell on the table next to her and rang it. ‘Tea?’

‘Thank you.’ Ross waited, knowing this was all part of the negotiation that was about to come. 

A footman appeared and Caroline gave him instructions for refreshments. He disappeared and now her expression was as sharp as a razor. 

‘How did you know to find me?’ she asked.

Ross was a little taken aback by her directness and looked instinctively at the door. Caroline waved him off. 

‘My parents are visiting and the servants are dullards to a man.’ She fixed him with a piercing look. ‘Now answer the question, Mr Poldark.’

‘I met a man in Africa.’ Ross replied. ‘His name was Sparrow.’ 

That made Caroline sit up straight. 

‘Sparrow.’ There was something in her face. ‘When was this?’

‘Eighteen months ago.’ Ross answered. ‘We happened to run across each other and helped each other out in a sticky situation.’

‘That sounds like Sparrow.’ Caroline smiled. ‘He’s always been reckless.’ She narrowed her eyes at him. ‘But he never told you who Carmine is?’

‘No.’ Ross shook his head. ‘All he told me was that they would be able to help me in my endeavour.’ 

‘He must have trusted you a great deal in order to impart that information.’ Caroline was now looking away and Ross could see the emotions flying across her face. He realised in that second that the man he’d held in his arms while he was dying from the spear thrust deep into his side had been special to the woman in front of him. 

‘Who was he to you?’ he asked and Caroline’s mouth quirked. 

‘He was to be my husband.’ She sighed softly. ‘He as a good man, a man of principle. He was brave but he was also foolhardy.’ She looked back at him and now her blue eyes were shiny with tears. ‘When they sent word he’d been killed, I felt as though I would die too.’ She raised her chin and there was defiance now seeping into her expression. ‘Now my father wants to marry me off to a tame man, but I will not have it.’ 

‘I was with him at the end.’ Ross said. ‘He died as bravely as he lived.’

‘And gave you my name.’ Caroline pulled herself together. ‘So now the questions is what do you want, Ross?’

‘You know of my plans?’ Ross asked and she shrugged. 

‘A little.’ She tilted her head. ‘But wait a moment.’

The footman came back in with a silver tray bearing the tea service and plates full of queen cakes and sandwiches. He laid it on the table in front of Caroline and then went to get the tea caddy from the sideboard. He placed it to one side and she nodded to him and handed him a small key from a pocket. The footman prepared the tea and then stepped back as Caroline poured out the first cup and then took it from her and handed it to Ross, who thankfully remembered his manners and this bizarre custom and nodded to her. Another cup made its way to Dwight and then a final one for herself. The footman handed round the cakes and sandwiches before being dismissed. He left the room quietly on slippered feet and Caroline sipped her tea. 

‘I know about the island.’ She smiled. ‘Elizabeth is an acquaintance of mine. She is also rather lonely and in dire need of someone to listen to her and it was easy to get the information I wanted. The Americans are extremely interested in that piece of real estate. I am sure I don’t need to tell you why.’

‘Apart from its strategic placement and its value as a trading post on the way to the East, it is also a very good place to run patrols from.’ Ross said. ‘Sparrow told me that if I made a deal with the new establishment, they would ensure that my trading post would have both their protection and their custom.’ 

‘And he was correct.’ Caroline replied. ‘But that would not be the only price for our assistance.’

‘I anticipated that would be the case.’ Ross smiled and took a sip of his own. The quality was excellent but he was not surprised by that. ‘I have a commodity to bargain with.’

‘Really?’ Caroline raised an eyebrow at him. ‘And just what might that be?’

‘Him.’ Ross replied and nodded at Dwight, who had just taken a huge bite of his queen cake. He looked caught off guard and was unable to answer due to his mouth being full so he simply gave Caroline a weak smile. 

‘I did wonder as to your association.’ Caroline said. ‘What exactly do you mean by that?’

‘Your armies have need of something I can provide.’ Ross explained. ‘Gunpowder.’

‘And just how are you proposing to…’ Caroline stopped in the middle of her sentence and then stared at Dwight. ‘Of course. That’s why the chemist.’ Now her face was full of curiosity. ‘But how do you propose to manufacture enough of it, because believe me the people you wish to deal with will not be content with a few bags.’

‘How about a few barrels?’ Ross grinned at the astonishment on her face when he said the word barrels. 

‘There is not enough saltpetre on the open market to supply what is needed to make that much.’ she protested. 

‘Where I procure the saltpetre from is my business.’ He met her eyes. ‘What I need is an assurance that the gunpowder will buy me, my ship and my crew safe passage through the blockade in and around Vancouver sound. I will also need an assurance that the terms of our agreement will be met and that I won’t be killed on sight when I get there.’

‘And you think I can do that?’ Caroline asked and Ross chuckled.

‘I know you can do that.’ He smiled at her. ‘Sparrow told me you could.’ 

That made Caroline smile. 

‘I will see what I can do.’ She placed her now empty cup down. ‘In return I would like to know how Jim fits into all of this.’

‘He holds half the island.’ Ross said. ‘He’s my business partner.’

‘Sneaky little bugger.’ Caroline laughed. ‘You know about him and your father I assume? That they were lovers?’

‘I do.’ Ross replied, not daring to look at Dwight who was now gaping at him over his tea cup. ‘But Jim has assured me there were no entanglements.’

‘No, there wouldn’t be.’ Caroline laughed. ‘Jim is utterly mercenary. I do sometimes wonder where exactly he learned that.’ Her eyes were twinkling. ‘But of course, I am far too well bred to ask.’ 

‘Of course.’ Ross laughed. ‘But not too well bred to betray your country.’ 

‘I have my reasons as you do yours.’ Caroline shot back. 

‘My quarrel is with the Company.’ Ross corrected. ‘I have no feelings either way in regards to King and Crown.’

‘In that case we shall get along splendidly.’ Caroline asserted. ‘More tea?’

*********

Jim arrived at the theatre and went inside. He found the company preparing for the afternoon rehearsal and made his way to his dressing room. Once inside he shut the door and then turned his attention to the wall behind the couch. 

Joshua had always been suspicious of his nephew and not trusted him an inch. One of the things he’d entrusted Jim with was now secreted behind a thin layer of plaster and completely unnoticed by anyone and everyone who’d seen the inside of the room since they had arrived.

He scratched at the plaster with a nail and then took out the ship’s knife from under his waistcoat where it was held next to his shirt. It was a moment’s work to pry the plaster loose and reveal the thin crack in the wall, just large enough to accommodate the leather folio that had been slipped inside. 

Jim took it out and smiled. He knew why Ross had been tidying and also that he would have been unsuccessful in his attempt to locate what he was after. He undid the knotted thong that held the folio closed and then opened it and stared at the document inside. The deed was written in black ink, a little weather stained but still legible and bearing the signature of all concerned in the transfer of Nampara Island to the ownership of Joshua Poldark.

He took the deed out and carefully folded it into a small rectangle which went inside his shirt, and then left the room to join the company on stage.

**********

They left the Penvenen estate and Ross held up a hand even as they passed the gates. 

‘Save your questions for later.’ he said and Dwight promptly shut his mouth. 

Ross managed to keep him quiet all the way south of the river and into the marshes that bordered Greenwich. They stretched for miles along the river, the mud thick and stinking and the air filled with insects. It was a fine place to hide what they were up to. 

Dwight led them down an overgrown lane to a clearing in the thick trees and Ross heard the sound of water and saw the roof of a building just beyond the trees in front of them. 

‘Is that it?’ he asked and Dwight shot him a look. 

‘Save your questions for later.’ he retorted and Ross laughed.

The mill was now in front of them, built of stone and definitely in a state of disrepair. The roof had largely fallen in, but the wheel still turned and there seemed to be not a soul for miles around. 

‘Well.’ Dwight pulled his gelding to a stop. ‘I said I would deliver. Here are your newest premises.’

‘And your price?’ Ross asked, sliding off Bathsheba. 

‘A one way ticket to the New World.’ Dwight replied. ‘I am rather enjoying myself and our association.’

‘Done.’ Ross looped Bathsheba’s reins around a branch and followed Dwight into the building. Inside it smelt of damp and rotting wood, the air cool on his face. He walked through the building, checking everything. 

‘I’ll need some vats.’ Dwight said. ‘And paddles.’ He nodded at a pile of sacks covered in sailcloth. ‘There is the sulphur and I have the wood out the back, already cooking the meal powder.’

‘You’ve been busy.’ Ross remarked. ‘When do you find the time.’

‘We all have our secrets.’ Dwight replied, folding his arms. ‘Caroline let one slip back there. About Jim and your father.’

‘It wasn’t anything I didn’t already suspect.’ Ross turned to face him. ‘There are others.’

‘I know that.’ Dwight met his eyes straight on. ‘But right now, I have no care for them. Whatever is going on between the two of you, I do not want to know.’ 

That brought Ross up short.

‘What are you implying?’ he asked, his heart starting to thump a bit harder. 

‘You and Mr Hawkins.’ Dwight was grinning broadly. ‘Sniffing around each other like dogs in heat, the two of you are.’ 

‘Don’t be absurd.’ Ross was appalled to feel a surge of heat at the thought. ‘I dislike the man. The only reason he is in on the deal is because he has something I need and could prove to be very useful.’

‘Oh.’ Dwight’s smile didn’t waver. ‘My mistake then.’ 

‘Yes, it is.’ Ross declared and then put both hands on his hips. ‘Now explain to me what exactly you’ll be doing.’

‘Oh it’s simplicity itself.’ Dwight explained. ‘Once the vats are in situ and we have everything we need, I shall grind it fine and then begin the mixing. It will take approximately four weeks and careful tending by myself. I would also benefit from the help of an apprentice, but I fear that will be more difficult to swing.’

‘Not necessarily.’ A plan was already forming in Ross’ mind. ‘Would a child suit?’

‘Of course.’ Dwight replied. ‘It is a tedious job but not a difficult one.’

‘In that case I think we have found work for our little stowaway.’ Ross replied. ‘You’ll need to commute and Nampara is much closer than the garden. You’ll be able to get to the marshes by boat.’ 

‘Am I to take it that I am moving in?’ Dwight looked pleased. ‘Because your man lays on a splendid breakfast and I would not say no.’

‘I think it might be best for all of us to be in close quarters.’ Ross admitted. ‘Will you need to get your things from your rooms?’

‘It won’t take long.’ Dwight assured him. ‘You’ll be paying my way so I have no need of other employment. I shall return this very evening and do so.’

‘Be sure to leave unnoticed.’ Ross instructed him. ‘And don’t say a word to anyone.’

‘Not a word.’ Dwight smiled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> T/W: Domestic violence and miscarriage


	14. Ambush

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things start happening.

They left the mill when the sun was going down and made their way back to the city. Ross was not overly concerned, even though the ride was known to be treacherous. He had lived on the fringes of civilisation so the rural roads of London gave him no reason to fear. 

They rode back over Waterloo Bridge, past the ruins of the asylum. This time the long shadows did not hold Ross in their grip and he was almost cheerful when they got to the well-lit roads of the Garden and stopped to drop Dwight off at his rooms. He bid Ross goodbye and Ross rode on, reversing his direction and heading for Drury Lane. He was early though and when he got to the theatre it was barely six o’clock. With no plans ahead of him, he left Bathsheba at a nearby stable and bought another ticket. The performance that evening was for Much Ado About Nothing and Ross went in. This time though he eschewed the boxes to take a seat down at the front. He ordered a plate of food and bottle of beer and waited. 

The playbill pasted up on the front of the stage proclaimed that Jim was playing Claudio. Ross ate his pasties when they arrived, drained his beer quickly and bought another. In his street clothing he fitted in with the rougher clientele around him and he sat and watched from his bench as the first preliminary sketches began. They were all in the same vein as the main production and he found himself smiling while those around him fell about laughing at the bawdier inferences. By the time the main performance was ready to begin, Ross was feeling strangely relaxed. He’d never gone to the theatre before he’d left, preferring to spend his time playing cards and drinking. This was new to him, and yet he found he was actually enjoying himself. 

The play began and the first scene started with an older man coming on stage. He was accompanied by two younger women. All three were dressed in the Italian style, with flowing shirt and dresses. A second man was with them, his clothing indicating a servant of some kind. They began speaking and Ross listened to the delivery of the lines, the lyricism pleasing to his ear. 

The actress playing Beatrice had just spoken and the other man, who had been identified as a messenger replied. 

‘Dom Pedro is approached.’ he declared as he moved back from the front of the stage and a group of men came in from the wing, Jim among them. He looked particularly dashing, dressed in what was obviously supposed to be a uniform. The deep blue cloth his jacket was made from set off his eyes and gold hair, which was tied back once again. There was a sword at his side and Ross found himself feeling more than a little captivated. He remembered Dwight’s words and this time he analysed what he was feeling. There was no denying that Jim infuriated him and intrigued him in equal measures. He had thought that the revelation that Jim had been his father’s lover would put him in a frame of mind to despise the man, but now it seemed that he was suddenly aware of just why that should have been the case. He was starting to feel that had he been in his father’s position, he would have been just as tempted.

The men spoke and the scene passed but Jim did not speak until the others left and it was just him and the man playing Benedick left on the stage. When he did, his voice rang out clear and melodic and Ross was quickly entranced by his performance. 

By chance, as Don Pedro came back on stage, Jim happened to glance down. He was obviously scanning the audience but then his eyes fell on Ross and there was a second where he looked completely flustered at seeing him there. Then he smiled and his dimples sprang to life and Ross found himself smiling back. 

The rest of the scene passed, and then another and another. The longer the play went on, the more cheerful Ross became and he even started laughing along with the others around him. It also didn’t escape his notice that Jim seemed to be addressing him directly every time he was on stage, and the glances he threw Ross made Ross fell like they were sharing a grand jest. It was so odd. He hadn’t had a friend in all the time he’d been gone from England and now he had two, neither of whom he would have ever chosen for himself and yet no less appreciated. 

The play finally concluded and Jim came out with the rest to take their bows. As he did he smiled down at Ross and nodded in the direction of backstage. Ross nodded back and got up, making his way through the crowd and to the backstage door he’d gone in on his previous visit. He went in, passing players and stage hands until he got to Jim’s dressing room and went in without knocking. Jim was standing there waiting for him. He had his jacket off, his shirt open at the neck, and holding two glasses of wine. He handed one to Ross and grinned. 

‘You are the last person I was expecting to see.’ he said and Ross shrugged. 

‘I was early.’ He drank and noticed that the wine was of a better quality than that served out front. ‘I felt that this was as good a way to pass the time as any.’

‘In that case I have something else that might make for a good diversion.’ Jim put his drink down and took something out of his shirt. He handed the folded piece of paper to Ross and Ross felt how it was warm from being next to Jim’s skin. 

‘What is this?’ he asked. Jim’s eyes sparkled. 

‘Open it and see.’ he replied and picked up his wine. ‘I think it will make you happy. At least as happy as you’re capable of being.’

Ross shot him a look and the smile got wider. 

‘I am capable of being happy, in spite of what you might think.’ He tried to sound stern, but failed miserably. 

‘I see that.’ Jim laughed. ‘I actually saw you laugh this evening. I didn’t think you even knew how.’ He nodded at the paper. ‘Just open the bloody thing, Ross.’

‘Here.’ Ross handed him his glass and unfolded the document. He ran his eyes over the writing and then looked up in astonishment. ‘You had it?’

‘I presume that is what you were hunting for.’ Jim said. ‘I thought as much when I saw you had cleared up. Joshua gave it to me for safe keeping the last time I saw him. He must have known that something was coming.’ 

Ross stared at it. He ran one fingertip over his father’s signature. 

‘How much do you know of his death?’ he asked and Jim frowned. 

‘Not a great deal.’ he admitted. ‘I was away for most of the time he was taken ill and when I got back I was not allowed to see him. Francis barred me from the house.’

‘But it surprised you?’ Ross wanted to see Jim’s reaction and was heartened to see that Jim looked in earnest. 

‘It did.’ Jim gave him a wry smile. ‘Your father was…an energetic man.’ The smile became a smirk. ‘He certainly performed better than many men half his age have done in my experience.’

‘Christ.’ Ross drank. ‘I do not need to know the attributes of my father’s cock, thank you very much.’

‘In that case let me just say that the thought of Joshua falling so ill that he became bedridden was not one I ever entertained.’ Jim said and now he was serious. ‘When I heard of his death my first thought was that someone had finally managed to put the old bugger in the ground.’

‘And you would be right.’ Ross growled. ‘He was poisoned.’

‘What?’ Jim looked bemused. ‘Who would…?’

‘You know who.’ Ross interjected. ‘The Company has a long reach and my cousin in its grip.’

‘Are you saying Francis did this?’ Jim looked appalled. 

‘I’m saying that I wouldn’t put it past him to aid and abet a crime like that.’ Ross snorted. ‘They have him by the balls by all accounts, such as he possesses.’

‘Fucking bastards.’ Jim sounded venomous and Ross grinned. He was starting to appreciate this side of Jim. ‘They are nothing but parasites.’

‘Wealthy parasites with a very large amount of resources and power behind them.’ he pointed out. ‘And you are correct in stating that we are now on their list. I think we shall have to be doubly cautious from now on.’

‘Agreed.’ Jim sat down on the couch, one leg tucked underneath him. ‘Can I also suggest that we keep the number of people in on our little scheme to a minimum?’ He drank and then made an enquiring noise. ‘That reminds me, how did your meeting go with the fair Caroline?’

‘Dwight is rapidly falling in love.’ Ross chuckled. ‘As for myself, she has agreed in principle to terms on behalf of the people she represents and will take our offer to them and come back with an answer.’ He drained his glass. ‘Now we need to get a move on. We have things to discuss.’

‘Just let me change.’ Jim got up and for the first time, Ross felt uneasy in a man’s presence. He was no stranger to the pleasures that could be had from buggery and had spent many a night enjoying the company of men. But now he was experiencing something that felt uncomfortably like the beginnings of an infatuation and he did not want that to happen. Not when he was so close to perhaps getting Elizabeth back. 

I’ll wait outside.’ he said, maybe a tad too brusque but Jim did not seem to notice. He tucked the deed inside his own shirt and went to the door.

‘I’ll only be a moment.’ Jim replied and Ross stepped out into the corridor. The last thing he needed was to stand there and watch him take his clothes off. It was already giving him ideas.

True to his word, Jim was out a few moments later, shrugging into his coat.

‘I am ready to go if you are?’ he asked and Ross nodded, following him out from backstage in through the theatre until they stood in the night air. 

‘Where to?’ Ross looked around them. 

‘I know a place not too far from here.’ Jim beckoned to him. ‘This way.’

He led them along and down an alley about a hundred yards from the theatre. At the side of the building was a staircase that descended to a lower room. Inside, there was a pub. It was a meaner sort of place, with two harried bar maids and rough tables with benches to sit on. 

They found a place at the back where it was darker and less crowded and Jim waved one of the women over. He ordered them drink and food and Ross held up a hand in protest.

‘I have already eaten.’ he said and Jim grinned. 

‘You will want to try this.’ He smiled, dimples deep. 

This turned out to be mutton pies the like of which Ross had never eaten. He got through two of them before they moved onto the conversation they had come there to have. 

‘This ship...’ he started.

‘Yes?’ Jim was grinning. ‘What of her?’

‘Well, I need to know what I will be buying.’ Ross pointed out. ‘Tell me about it.’ 

‘Her.’ Jim corrected and his face lit up as he started talking. ‘She’s a truly graceful thing. She was built in Plymouth and has the finest lines you could find on a brig.’

‘Is she fast?’ Ross asked and Jim looked like he’d just insulted a close family member.

‘Of course.’ he snorted. ‘She’s magnificent. The company have her docked down at Shadwell and she’s been treated kindly in their hands, I’ll give them that. Just as well, otherwise Silver would break their necks.’

‘We’ll need a crew for her.’ Ross refilled his glass. 

‘You let me take care of that.’ Jim said. ‘I will find you the hands.’

‘I am assuming that your previous crew will be coming along.’ Ross looked at him over his glass. 

‘That is one of my terms.’ Jim replied. ‘But they are competent and trustworthy.’ He grinned and lowered his voice. ‘For pirates of course.’

‘Of course.’ Ross chuckled. ‘How much are you expecting her to bring in the auction?’

Jim shrugged. 

‘It’s hard to tell.’ he conceded. ‘But not less than five hundred Pounds I should think.’ He looked at Ross as if anticipating a refusal. ‘Unless you feel that is too high a price.’

‘No, I do not.’ Ross stated. ‘And I certainly have enough money for that to not make a large dent in the finances.’ That made Jim look at him in curiosity.

‘Just how many diamonds did you steal?’ he asked. 

‘Enough.’ Ross replied. ‘How many hands are we thinking?’

‘We’ll need about fifty to crew her.’ Jim said. ‘Silver will of course be captain. That is something he will insist upon.’

‘And I have no argument with that.’ Ross assured him. ‘I know nothing about captaining a ship and I believe many owners leave that to men better qualified than themselves.’ 

‘They do.’ Jim gave him a quizzical look. ‘How exactly did you get around Africa?’ 

‘On not too many ships.’ Ross answered. ‘It’s more conducive to land based transportation.’ He frowned at his now empty glass. ‘I fear we have run out.’

‘We should be on hour way.’ Jim said. ‘It’s been at least two hours. Where have you left Bathsheba?’

‘At the stable down by the Green Dragon.’ Ross got up. ‘We should go and get your horse first.’ 

‘All right.’ Jim followed him out and they found the streets now largely empty of people. The fog had set in and it was difficult to see even a few paces in front of them. They walked down the road in companiable silence back to the theatre and Ross waited while Jim went around the back to get Gunpowder. 

He was standing waiting when his sharp ears caught the sound of steps. They were meant to be stealthy, but Ross had hunted all manner of beasts in Africa and he was attuned to the noises made by someone or something that did not wish to be detected. He looked into the fog and just made out the smallest movement of shadows and instantly was on alert. He tensed, every sense now straining. He could hear something else, whispers, and knew that whoever was lurking out there in the dark, they were not alone.

He turned and made his way down the alley, only to see a large shape approaching. It was Jim, leading Gunpowder by the reins. He saw Ross and stopped, his face changing when he saw how Ross was standing. 

‘Where?’ He kept his own voice low.

‘Out there in the street.’ Ross replied. ‘I am not sure how many, but more than one.’ 

‘Bastards.’ Jim dropped the reins and moved to take something from the back of Gunpowder’s saddle. Ross saw that he now had two boarding axes, wicked looking things with curved blades and sharp spikes. The light from the lantern caught the steel and made them gleam as Jim tucked one into each side of his belt. Ross grinned. It seemed that once a sailor, always a sailor. 

Jim caught the smile and raised an eyebrow at him.

‘You have something better?’ It was full of challenge in spite of the low volume. Ross reached behind him for his knife and Jim gave it an approving glance. 

‘It does the job.’ Ross said. ‘Now what?’

‘We get out of here.’ Jim got one foot in the stirrup and pulled himself up onto Gunpowder’s back and then held out a hand. ‘Come on. We’ll give them something to think about.’ 

Ross hesitated, sheathed the knife again and then took the hand. He felt a touch alarmed at how easily Jim hauled him up behind him, then clapped his heels to Gunpowder’s flanks. The stallion bolted forward and they burst from the alley. There were shouts of surprise as the roan clattered past the men that had now grouped at the entrance of the alleyway, but Jim rode Gunpowder straight through them. 

Behind him, Ross held on and cast a glance over his shoulder. He counted eight figures in the swirling fog and then looked forward over Jim’s shoulder. The stable was only a few hundred yards away, but they now saw another group of men coming for them. Gunpowder spooked and reared up, shadow boxing the air and striking out with his front hooves.

The sudden change from horizontal to vertical threw Ross from his less secure seat behind Jim and he slid off and hit the ground. He rolled but even as he made it into a crouch, one of the men was bringing his arm down, the heavy mace he carried topped with iron. Ross was caught off guard and he reached for the knife at his back, knowing it was going to be close. 

Even as he did though, something flew past him through the air and the man went over backwards, one of Jim’s axes embedded in his chest, blood staining his shirt black around it in the dim light. Ross turned and saw that Jim was now off Gunpowder and had dispatched the stallion with a slap to the rump. He moved quickly past Ross, holding the man down with one boot as he wrenched the axe out and then moved so they were now back to back, an axe in each hand. 

‘Get up.’ he ordered and Ross obeyed without thinking, his own knives now in his hands as the rest of the men surrounded them. There were eleven in all, and he sucked in air through his teeth with his mind racing as he started to work out his plan of attack. Behind him, Jim moved fluidly towards the men on his side, ducking a blow and using the axe in his right hand to strike at the man’s belly. His attacker screamed and Jim had him down and was on to the next one by the time Ross had his head on straight enough to counter the first strike from his side. Then he put his head down and lunged, sidestepping his attacker neatly as he stepped up with the jembiya, the blade slicing through cloth and skin and flesh as easily as is cutting through gossamer. 

They were no doubt men in the employ of the Company but they were not soldiers and they fought ferociously but without skill. Ross moved between them, striking indiscriminantly and felling them one by one. He’d learned this at the hands of an Arab he’d met in the northern parts of Africa where the great desert stretched. The men he killed went down with great wounds to the belly and thighs, hamstrung and then finished off with a blow to the gut. 

Jim was near him, and Ross had a second to admire how he fought. It was clear he was a sailor, using the axes as if they were extensions of his own arms in deadly combinations that saw the blades sinking deeply into limbs and bodies, reversing them neatly to bring the deadly spikes down into the crooks of necks and then back around again to drive the blade of the axes into skulls. His short stature and quick reflexes meant he soon had his men outclassed and it was only a few more minutes until they were standing surrounded by bodies, some dead and some dying but all injured to the point of being disabled. 

Jim stood, breathing hard. It steamed in the damp air and he looked at Ross. He seemed uninjured but for a split lip that was bleeding over his chin. He spat blood on the ground and then nodded at his side.

‘You are hit.’ he said and Ross looked down at himself. There was another rip in his coat, which would no doubt vex Jud enormously. He sheathed his knife and felt under his coat, his fingers coming away bloody. 

‘It’s a scratch.’ He took a deep breath and winced at the pain that was now seeping in through the adrenaline. ‘We need to go.’

Jim nodded and stuck his axes back in his belt after cleaning them off and one of the assailants. Then he lifted his fingers to his lips and whistled and seconds later Gunpowder trotted back down the road. He got back on and helped Ross behind him and they cantered down to the stable and Bathsheba. 

Ross slid off and went inside. The ostler was clearly shocked at his state of disarray but handed over Bathsheba without saying a word. Ross got himself on her back and rode out to meet Jim. 

‘Dwight.’ He was panting with exertion, the pain now coming in white hot waves. The wound he’d taken seemed to be much deeper than the last one he’d received from the man with the silver tooth. ‘If they knew where we were they may well be watching his rooms.’ 

Jim nodded, his face grim. Even as he opened his mouth to speak though there was a mighty blast, audible even to them and their eyes met. 

‘Fuck!’ Ross spat, kicking Bathsheba into a gallop. Jim was close behind, their horses’ hooves loud on the cobbles. They raced through the streets, and by the time they got to Covent Garden they could see how the sky was now lit up. The dull orange glow was indicative of fire and Bathsheba reared up and whinnied as the smell of acrid smoke reached them. Ross wrestled her back down and Jim pulled Gunpowder in next to him. 

‘Do you think…?’ He let the question hang and Ross looked at him. The light was reflecting off Jim’s light eyes and hair and he looked for a second like a very beautiful demon. 

‘One way to find out.’ Ross kicked Bathsheba back into action and they rode through the maze of streets until they got to the square where Dwight’s rooms were. There was a sizeable crowd already gathered and they parted to let them ride through. 

Ross looked around and then felt a wave of relief when he saw a familiar figure standing at the front, hands on hips and a singularly unimpressed look on his blackened face. His hair was standing up in all directions and some of it looked decidedly singed, but he was alive. 

‘Those cocksucking bastards!’ he hissed when Ross and Jim reached him. ‘They threw a grenade through my window.’

‘You are very lucky to be alive in that case.’ Ross replied. ‘Are you all right?’

‘Yes.’ Dwight spat on the ground. ‘Although pretty much all I possessed has gone up in flames.’ He nodded at a shapeless leather bag on the ground in front of him. ‘Thankfully I keep everything I value in that. In case the creditors come calling, you understand.’ He peered at them and now seemed to realise that they too looked worse for wear. ‘What the bloody hell happened to you?’

‘The fucking Company happened to us.’ Ross snorted. ‘We need to make ourselves scarce before reinforcements arrive.’

‘Here.’ Jim held down a hand again and Dwight handed up his bag and then took it, getting on behind him and taking the bag back. Jim wheeled Gunpowder around and cantered out the square, Ross close on his heels. 

They rode at full speed as far as the Tower, by which time both horses were sweating and blowing hard. From there they slowed their pace and now Ross was starting to realise he was far more badly injured than he’d first thought. Across from him, Dwight was watching him with some alarm. 

‘You’re hurt.’ he said and Ross grimaced. 

‘It will keep till we get to the house.’ he insisted. ‘We need to get off the streets.’

‘He is right in saying so.’ Jim looked back in the direction of the city. ‘Although the men we met this evening were not contracted to the Company through any legitimate channels, their deaths are not going to be unnoticed.’ He drew in a deep breath. ‘There may well be more about, possibly even at the house. It looks like Warleggan is trying a different tactic. With the two of us out the way, the estate reverts back to Francis and they have a clear run at it.’

‘The devil can take all of them.’ Ross muttered. ‘I’ll burn the fucking place to the ground before I let them have it.’

‘Now that’s the spirit.’ Jim was grinning and it was remarkable how someone with dimples could look quite so terrifying. 

They reached Wapping and the house soon after. Tonight they brought the horses round the back into the yard. Jud had hired some men to effect repairs of the stables and there were now two stalls ready to be used. Dwight dismounted first and helped Ross off Bathsheba, leaving Jim to take care of the horses while he helped Ross to the back door. 

It opened just as they got there and Ross was greeted with a face that could curdle new milk. 

'You’ve bloody done it again.’ Jud grumbled. ‘At this rate you’ll be going naked soon enough.’

Ross couldn’t help it. The whole evening had been so surreal that he burst out laughing and then found he couldn’t stop. It seemed to be contagious and soon Dwight was braying along with him as they made their way into the kitchen. Jud watched them and tutted loudly. 

‘You’ve both gone bleedin’ mad.’ he declared. 

‘Mad or not, I need to sew Ross back together it seems.’ Dwight nodded at the table. ‘Clear that off if you please.’ He helped Ross to the edge. ‘Now be a good patient and get up there.’

‘You’re not a fucking doctor.’ Ross protested, but he did as he was told. 

‘No.’ Dwight conceded. ‘But I am the best you’ve got right now.’ He stripped off his coat and rolled up his sleeves. ‘Jud, a kettle on the stove please and a seaming needle if you have one handy.’

‘I do.’ Jud was now at Ross’ side. He helped him off with his coat and waistcoat and then hauled Ross’ shirt over his head. As suspected, the knife that had struck the blow had hit between the ribs and it had made a deep hole. Dwight was washing his face and hands at the sink and then came over to have a look. The two of them stood and peered at Ross’ side. 

‘It’s deep.’ Jud remarked.

‘A few stitches and he’ll be good as new.’ Dwight assured him. ‘Now the kettle and needle, Jud.’ 

‘Righty ho.’ Jud went to fill the kettle. ‘Where’s Jim?’

‘Seeing to the horses.’ Ross replied, wincing as Dwight poked at the wound. ‘Could you be a bit more careful when you bloody do that?’

‘Sorry.’ Dwight straightened up and then grinned as he looked past Ross. ‘Hello there.’

‘What’s going on?’ Demelza’s voice came from the doorway. ‘Did Ross get stabbed?’

‘Yes, he bloody did.’ Jud muttered with a black look for Ross. ‘Again.’

‘It is not my fault.’ Ross grumbled. ‘Blame the people that seem intent on killing me.’

The back door opened and Jim came in, looking a little wild-eyed. 

‘Are you all right?’ His eyes were fixed on Ross’ face. 

‘I am about to be subjected to surgery, so no.’ Ross snorted. ‘Do me a favour and get the brandy, would you?’

Jim went through into the parlour and came back with the bottle. He handed it to Ross and Ross drank directly from it. Demelza had now moved to his side and was staring at the wound in fascination. 

‘I can see your rib.’ she remarked and Dwight chuckled and pushed her out the way, taking the bottle of brandy from Ross hand’s and taking a huge gulp himself before pouring a large quantity over the wound and making Ross roar in pain. 

‘Fuck!’ He gripped the edge of the table. 

‘Pipe down.’ Jim was now at his side as well. ‘You whimper like an old maid.’ He took the bottle from Dwight and drank, then handed it back to Ross. 

‘You’re not the one with a bloody hole through his side.’ Ross shot him his most poisonous look. 

‘That’s because I am too fast to be hit.’ Jim smiled angelically at him and Ross was right back at wanting to hit him. 

‘Thieving bastard.’ he muttered. 

‘Better a thieving bastard than a sister-fucker.’ Jim retorted as quick as lighting and Ross’ eyes went wide. Between them, Dwight was frozen in shock. He looked from one to the other and then at Demelza, who was smiling gleefully. 

Jim held Ross’ gaze steadily. Ross glared back and then shouted again as Dwight pinched the wound closed. Jud had arrived with the needle and a length of black thread.

‘Hold it in the flame a moment.’ Dwight directed and Jud went to sterilise the needle before bringing it back. Dwight took it and looked at Jim. 

‘I need your hands.’ he said. ‘You’ve seen this done before?’

‘Yes.’ Jim nodded. ‘On the ship.’

‘The principle is the same.’ Dwight nodded at the needle in Jud’s hand. ‘You shall hold the wound closed and I stitch it shut. That way I can guide your hands and stop anything from coming out.’ 

Jim moved to place his hands where Jud’s were and they burned like fire on Ross’ skin. He held the edges of the wound together and Dwight started the sewing. The needle pierced Ross’ skin and he bit back a cry. Demelza immediately grabbed the brandy and handed it back to him. He took it and drank and didn’t stop until the final stitch was done and Dwight stepped back. 

‘Not bad handiwork.’ He smiled at Ross. ‘A small scar with any luck.’

‘And to bed.’ Jud ordered. ‘You’ll need to sleep that off.’ 

‘I’ll take you.’ Demelza took Ross' hand and tugged on it. He barely had time to give Jim a look pleading for help, but Jim was smiling and watching them with undisguised amusement. 

Ross gave in and let Demelza pull him along, still holding onto the now half-empty bottle of brandy. They made it upstairs and into the attic where she shoved him in the general direction of the bed. Ross lay down and she helped him pull his boots off and then climbed on next to him, pulling the covers over them both. Ross regarded her. 

‘And what do you think you are doing?’ he asked. Demelza looked at him with blue eyes that were far too old for her face. 

‘Looking after you.’ she declared and then lay down next to him. 

**********

Downstairs, Jud had started a pot of coffee. 

‘Christ.’ he muttered. ‘All I wants is a quiet life.’ 

Jim and Dwight grinned at each other over the table. 

'Well, there’s precious little chance of that happening.’ Jim replied. 'Not considering who you are employed by.'

‘Be thankful we’re here to keep him out of trouble.’ Dwight added. 

Jud gave both of them a look of disbelief and rolled his eyes at them. 

‘A fine pack of idiots you all make.’ he muttered and went back to the range with their laughter ringing in his ears.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> T/W: violence and needles


	15. At Auction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim and Ross go to auction.

_Ross looked up the sky. It was blue, so blue it almost hurt his eyes to gaze into it. The sun was hot, not the gentle heat of an English summer, but something much more primal and he could feel the sweat running down his back under his shirt and into his eyes._

_The sun was glaring, almost blinding him where it reflected off the sand of the dunes that lined the beach. Next to him stood a young man and Ross turned his head to look at his companion. He was tall and well made with thick sandy hair and a sunburned complexion. The man turned as well and Ross could see that his mouth and nose were stained with blood. That made him look down and saw the hole in the man’s coat where the spear had penetrated through the cloth and into his body._

_That blow had been fatal. Ross had sat and held onto him until he’d passed, his eyes rolling back in his head as he breathed his last._

_‘Christopher.’ Here in this dream world, his voice sounded very far away in his ears._

_‘Ross.’ The man born the Rt Hon Christopher Hamilton smiled at him. Even his teeth were stained red and the smile was hellish. ‘You saw her.’_

_‘I did.’ Ross stared at him. He’d know the man under another name but he’d never known that the person he’d been looking for was in fact Sparrow’s fiancée. ‘She is quite remarkable.’_

_Sparrow nodded, chuckling. It was like the rustle of dry leaves._

_‘Caroline is quite possibly the most remarkable woman you will ever meet.’ His eyes were as green as Ross remembered them. ‘I was a fool to leave her behind. She would have probably made sure I never came to be in this predicament.’_

_‘I am sorry I could not help you.’ Ross said and meant it. He’d liked Sparrow._

_‘You did what you could and I was grateful you didn’t leave me to die alone.’ Sparrow replied. ‘But now it’s time for you to honour our bargain.’_

_‘I know.’ Ross said and looked back out at the sea in front of them. ‘What will you have me do?’_

_‘I bought Caroline a ring before I left England.’ Sparrow said. ‘I never gave it to her, but it’s still where I left it.’_

_‘And where is that exactly?’ Ross asked._

_‘It’s in my family’s house.’ Sparrow grinned as he watched Ross’ face fall. ‘What? You didn’t think I would give you the information I did for a small price, did you?’_

_‘No, I suppose not.’ Ross sighed. ‘Are you telling me I have to break into your family home and steal the damned thing?’_

_‘That’s exactly what I’m saying.’ Sparrow laughed. ‘Come now, it is child’s play for a man such as yourself. I know everything about you now, Ross Poldark. People talk on this side.’_

_‘I am sure they do.’ Ross turned back to face him. ‘And I pay my debts.’ He held out a hand and Sparrow took it. ‘I will do it.’_

_‘It’s in the bottom drawer of the commode in my room.’ Sparrow said. ‘I want you to give it to her and tell her that I love her and that she must move on now. She has spent too long crying over my memory.’ He gave Ross a wry smile. ‘Is this chemist of yours trustworthy?’_

_‘I do not think so.’ Ross replied. ‘But he’s clever and forthright and he seemed to make her laugh.’_

_‘Good.’ Sparrow looked into the distance and his face was sad. ‘She needs a man who can make her forget me. Someone who will be able to match her for wit and strength.’ He inhaled deeply and then started to walk away._

_‘Where are you going?’ Ross called after him and Sparrow stopped, but did not reply. Instead he raised one hand in greeting and faded away into the light._

*********

The sound of humming brought Ross out of sleep and he lay still for a moment as his mind caught up with the fact that he was no longer dreaming. Then, as the song trickled through his consciousness, Ross realised he knew it. It had been Grace’s favourite and she’d hummed it to him on many occasions.

He forced his eyes open and saw that Demelza was sitting cross legged on the bed next to him. A jolt of pain raced through his side and he groaned. She looked up at him and he saw her blue eyes were black. Even as he blinked, not quite believing what he was seeing, they faded back to their usual blue and she smiled at him.

‘You were snoring.’ she said and went back to what she was doing. Ross sat up and then he saw that she had Grace’s tarot cards spread out on the counterpane.

‘Where did you get those?’ He fixed her with a stern look.

‘Grace showed me where they were.’ Demelza shot back, frowning at his sharp tone. ‘She’s teaching me to read them. She says you’ll never get round to it because you have a distraction.’

‘A distraction?’ Ross was slightly annoyed at that. Even from beyond the grave, his mother had to have her say. ‘I am not distracted.’

Demelza giggled and then tilted her head as if listening. Ross noticed there was a ghost of violets and jasmine in the air. Not only that, but Demelza was using the same Celtic Cross spread Grace always did and that she was grinning at him like she knew something he didn’t.

‘How did you come to know this?’ he asked. ‘And I don’t mean the cards.’

‘Papa had the sight.’ Demelza said. ‘He knew he was going to die, but he made me promise not to tell Mama. He talks to me all the time.’ She tilted her head. ‘Doesn’t Grace talk to you?’

‘When I listen.’ Ross admitted. ‘But I also hear others.’

‘So do I.’ Demelza pulled a face. ‘Some of them are not so nice. They want me to do things for them.’

‘They always do.’ Ross sighed. He started to get up and she leaned over and caught his arm.

‘Just one card.’ Her eyes were sparkling. ‘She wants you to.’

‘Then she can bloody well tell me herself.’ Ross snapped and then immediately felt bad when Demelza’s lower lip wobbled. ‘Oh, for Christ’s sake. Do not expect me to believe that. I bet you can cry on demand.’

‘True.’ Demelza sounded very proud of herself. ‘Just one card and I’ll leave you be.’

Ross heaved a sigh and glared at her, but she was completely unmoved. He leaned over, grimacing at the pull on the stitches Dwight had put in. He was about to reach for a card when she stopped him.

‘No.’ she directed. ‘That one.’

Ross looked at the card she was pointing at and then narrowed his eyes at her. Demelza stared back, uncowed by the ferocious look on his face.

‘Why that one?’ Ross asked and Demelza giggled again.

‘Grace says you have to make a decision.’ she explained.

‘Fuck.’ Ross shook his head at himself and then turned the card over, knowing what it was going to be even before he did. He stared at the entwined figures on the card, their twisted bodies indicating they were enjoying carnal pleasure.

‘Grace said you need to be careful.’ Demelza said. ‘One will lead to disaster and one to happiness but only you can decide which one will be which.’

‘Tell her to stop interfering.’ Ross growled and then addressed the attic. ‘Do you hear that, Mother? I am quite capable of making my bad decisions all by myself.’

There was a whisper of laughter at the far end of Ross’ hearing and then it faded.

‘All right.’ He moved gingerly to the side of the couch. ‘Time for you to run along so I can get up and get dressed. I have things to do this morning.’

Demelza gathered up the cards and held them to her chest.

‘I’m keeping these.’ she declared. ‘Grace said I could.’

‘Be my guest.’ Ross tested his legs and found they were still functioning. ‘Now get out.’

Demelza clambered off the bed and scampered out, nearly running into Jim as she left the attic. Jim laughed as she side-stepped him and then came into the room. He was already dressed and shaved and looked ready for action. Ross glared at him as well for good measure and not just because the card he’d turned had instantly put him in mind of sea-coloured eyes and a dimpled smile rather than what it should have done. And now their owner had arrived to personally persecute him, it seemed. Ross noted that he was also looking a little worse off than he had the night before. There was a bruise shadowed along one cheekbone and his split lip was scabbed over.

‘Good morning.’ Jim sounded far too cheerful. ‘I came to call you down to breakfast and ask if you need any help getting ready.’ He came to the bed and knelt down. Ross’ first instinct was to pull away, but it hurt too much to move quickly and he could only sit still as Jim ran gentle fingers over the stitches. ‘How does it feel?’

‘It’s all right.’ He had to clear his throat as Jim’s touch went right through him. Jim looked up at him and the sunlight hit his eyes making them luminous, and Ross looked away quickly, fearful that he might get lost in them if he stared a little too long. He was quite unused to feeling like this and it maddened him. ‘I can sort myself out.’

‘If you say so.’ Jim got up. ‘The auction will begin at eleven and you need to be standing at my side so we can buy the bloody ship or neither of us are going to be going anywhere.’

‘Then get out and let me get dressed.’ Ross stood up, but even as he did so he bent over as the agony raced through his side and knocked the very air out of him. Jim caught him and threw his arm on the uninjured side over his shoulder and lowered him back down to the bed.

‘Maybe moving less quickly will allow you to not rip your damn stitches out.’ he admonished. ‘Now stop being so bloody stubborn and let me help you.’

‘I don’t need your help!’ Ross protested vociferously, trying to push Jim away. ‘Stop bloody mothering me!’

‘You are impossible!’ Jim snapped. ‘I’m going to get Jud. He can deal with you.’ He stomped off and bellowed down the stairs for Jud as he went and Ross fell back on the bed. His side now ached, a dull pain that sparked every now and then.

A few moments later, Jud came plodding up the stairs. Ross could hear him grumbling before he’d even got to the door.

‘I am fine!’ he yelled, hoping to dissuade him. Jud, ignored him and came in with a determined look on his face.

‘No you’re bloody not.’ He held out a hand. ‘Now let’s get you dressed.’

‘For Christ’s sake, Jud.’ Ross muttered. ‘I am not an invalid.’

‘What?’ Jud got him on his feet. ‘You worried about me seeing your bare arse? Who was it who used to change you when you were but a baby? I’ve seen your arse more times than I’ve seen me own.’

‘Fuck.’ Ross gave up in disgust. He let Jud help him shave and dress and then leaned on him as they went down the stairs. They found Jim in the kitchen. He was busy feeding Demelza breakfast and threw Ross a look when Jud brought him to sit at the table.

‘Nice to see you’re still alive.’ His voice was dripping in sarcasm. ‘I think we’ll be taking a carriage today.’

‘Bugger off.’ Ross retorted. ‘I can ride.’

‘No you fucking can’t!’ Jim shot back. He looked at Jud. ‘How the hell do you even deal with him?’

‘He pays me wages.’ Jud replied. ‘That’s the only reason I put up with him. Bloody Poldarks and their bloody stubborness.’

Ross huffed at him, but he accepted the plate of food Jim slammed down in front of him. He ate, all the while painfully aware that Demelza was watching every pointed glance that passed between him and Jim like a child at the circus. Jim sat at the opposite end and proceeded to eat his own breakfast, not once breaking the glare he levelled at Ross.

‘I could go on my own.’ he eventually said.

‘I am not giving you over a thousand Pounds in diamonds.’ Ross bit back. ‘I’m not that bloody stupid.’

‘It’s almost as if you don’t trust me.’ Jim’s smile was wicked. He exchanged grins with Demelza. ‘What did your Papa always say?’

‘Confound these pirates!’ Demelza barked in imitation and then dissolved into giggles.

‘That’s right.’ Jim looked at Ross. ‘It’s a fair assumption. I wouldn’t trust me either. But you’ll need to come back and rest after the auction. No galloping mysteriously around the marshes today.’

‘And why is that.’ Ross hacked at his bacon, now more irritated than anything else.

‘Because we’re going out tonight.’ Jim replied. ‘I wasn’t going to tell you until I had confirmed my suspicions, but I think that last night’s little ambush warrants us moving quicker to keep ahead.’

‘What the devil are you blathering on about?’ Ross. ‘I swear you speak just to hear your own voice sometimes.’

‘And you’re so bloody thick it’s like working with a cart horse.’ Jim retorted. ‘We need information, Ross. The Company is clearly having us followed but we simply do not have the time to do that. We need someone on the inside who can report their movements to us.’

‘Now that sounds like a sensible plan.’ Dwight’s voice came from the kitchen doorway. He yawned enormously, greeted Demelza with a ruffle of her copper curls and sat down and gave Jud a pleading look. ‘But how do you propose to do that?’

‘Blackmail.’ Jim said with a brilliant smile and Ross groaned and put his face in his hands.

‘Let me guess, you’ve fucked half the Company as well.’ he muttered and narrowly avoided the bread roll Jim hurled at him. Black Dog, who had been lying in front of the range, immediately pounced on it and tore it to shreds with every sign of enjoyment.

‘No.’ Jim snorted. ‘Unlike you, I do not consort with the fucking enemy.’ He addressed Dwight. ‘Actually this will make you feel happier. I happen to know that Unwin Trevaunance is a man’s man. Not only that, but I have seen him in the molly house they have in Holburn.’

‘What on earth were you doing in a molly house?’ Dwight asked. ‘You’re not exactly that type.’

‘It’s not just for them.’ Jim explained. ‘I have spent a few very diverting evenings in those particular establishments. But that’s beside the point.’ He was looking at Ross again and Ross had to admit it was a very clever plan.

‘A molly in the Company.’ he mused. ‘That would make his position completely untenable were anyone to find out. At best dismissal and at worse…’

‘The gallows.’ Jim finished cheerfully. ‘He’ll be willing to bargain for his life and reputation I reckon.’

‘I have a question.’ Dwight was looking at Jim with undisguised curiosity. ‘How is it that you came to be a sodomite? Is it something you developed?'

‘Come now.’ Jud sounded outraged as he came to the table and clapped his hands over Demelza’s ears. ‘Not in front of the child.’

That made Jim roar with laughter.

‘That child has seen more cocks than I have.’ he pointed out. ‘She’s a little spy.’

Demelza, twisting to get out of Jud’s grip, grinned at him.

‘Jim’s always liked cock.’ she declared when she escaped. ‘He only does it with men.’

‘Is that true?’ Dwight looked astonished. ‘So you have never had relations with a woman?’

‘Not once.’ Jim leaned back in his seat. ‘I simply do not have the inclination to. Thankfully a life at sea is very conducive to my tastes.’

‘I can imagine.’ Dwight chuckled. He was now looking at Ross in an odd way and Ross glowered at him, daring him to say anything.

‘So what do you propose?” he asked Jim, changing the subject.

‘Well, I can get us in.’ Jim said. ‘We go and shake things up a bit. If we’re to rob the warehouse then we need to know everything we can about it before coming up with a plan.’  
‘Oh Lord.’ Jud muttered and left the kitchen.

‘The thing is….’ Dwight buttered his bread. ‘You two are now both known and being watched, as am I. There’s no chance we’ll be able to rob the warehouse ourselves. In fact, I would suggest that we need to be as far away from the action as possible. Preferably somewhere public so our alibis will be above reproach.’

‘Yes.’ Jim nodded. ‘That is an excellent idea.’ They both looked at Ross and he frowned.

‘Why are you looking at me?” he asked.

‘Because you’re the one with the social standing, Ross.’ Jim pointed out. ‘It’s not like Dwight and I have invitations coming out of our ears.’

‘Christ.’ Ross muttered. ‘I think you two really have no idea just how much I hate this.’

‘All for the good of the expedition.’ Dwight chuckled. ‘You need to rustle up an invitation. You could ask Caroline?’

Ross glared at them and went back to his food.

**********

The auction was to be held in a shipping office on Fenchurch Street, not too far from the Company building a few roads up. The hall was filled with all manner of men when they arrived, Jim handing Ross down from the carriage. Ross was utterly disgusted by the gesture, but his side was no less painful and so he grudgingly took Jim’s hand and blew out a pained breath when he landed.

They went to the door and inside to stand at the back. Jim nudge Ross towards a bench and Ross huffed but went to sit. Jim moved to sit next to him and Ross was uncomfortably aware that he could smell him this close, sweat and horse and soap combined with something deeper and saltier. It made his pulse pick up and he gritted his teeth against it.  
The auctioneer was seated at the front of the room on a raised podium. He peered at the room through his spectacles and then consulted the sales catalogue in front of him. Clerks were moving around the room as well, one of them bringing a tall candle to the front. It was custom for the auction to be done by lighting the candle and letting it burn to the red mark at which time the highest bid would win.

The auctioneer called the first lot and began the auction. There were a total of five ships available. This was standard practice of both the East India Company and the Royal Navy and it could snag someone a bargain once the concerned parties decided they no longer needed to asset.

The first two ships sold for reasonable sums. The next up was the Hispaniola and Ross felt Jim tense up beside him, even though he still looked completely nonchalant.

‘Our next lot is the merchant brig Hispaniola.’ the auctioneer announced. ‘Captured off Tortuga, she carries twelve guns and one hundred an forty-four tons. I shall begin the bidding at four hundred Pounds. As always, once the candle is lit bidding may commence and will only be closed when we reach the mark.’

Ross watched the others in the room. He had seen a few men sit up, their physical attitudes giving away their interest. He weighed up his opposition and saw nothing that would worry him. Two of the men where genial older merchant types, another young like himself and with a hungry look. Ross immediately earmarked him as the man to watch. He elbowed Jim and gave the man a slight nod. Jim looked over and Ross could see from his expression that he was in agreement.

The first bid came in from their left and Jim leaned in to murmur in Ross’ ear.

‘He’ll bottle it at about five hundred.’ His breath was a warm whisper of air on Ross’ ear and neck and Ross dug his nails into his palm. ‘He will start fast but cannot sustain it. He’s hoping to scare everyone else off.’

‘And us?’ Ross asked.

‘We wait.’ Jim smiled, looking at him. ‘Until the last possible moment if you’ve got the balls for it.’ Ross looked back and this time he held Jim’s gaze. He was so close he could see the shifting colours of Jim’s irises, the tiny golden flecks around the pupils.

‘I have the balls for it.’ he replied. Jim looked at him steadily and then smiled, dimples flickering.

‘Good.’ He turned back to the room. ‘Then pay attention.’

Ross looked at his profile, Demelza’s words coming back to him. His mother had always been a complicated woman and she had been incapable of giving a straight answer.

_One will lead to disaster and one to happiness, but it is up to you to decide which is which._

‘Jim…’ The word was out before he could stop himself and Jim looked at him again, his eyes questioning.

‘What is it?’ His voice was low, soft and Ross felt an urge to hear it in the dark, to know the sounds he might make or the endearments he might whisper.

‘Six hundred and fifty Pounds.’ The call came from the young merchant and it was enough to draw Ross out of his thoughts. He was about to bid when Jim’s hand fell on his arm and he shook his head slightly.

Ross waited and looked at the auctioneer. His hand was raised, the gavel poised to signal the end of the bidding once the candle reached the red mark. The young merchant was now looking around, his face smug in the certainty that he had out bid everyone. The candle continued to burn, the wax left now barely a tenth of an inch. Jim leaned in and this time he was so close, his lips almost brushed Ross’ ear.

‘Now.’ he breathed and Ross felt something inside him break.

‘Eight hundred Pounds.’ He said the words quietly an the auctioneer gave him an astonished look.

‘I’m sorry?’ he half stood to get a better look at them. ‘Did you just say eight hundred pounds?’

Ross got to his feet, inhaling deeply to offset the pain in his ribs.

‘I did.’ he replied. ‘Eight hundred Pounds.’

Murmurs of surprise filled the auction room. The auctioneer looked impressed. The young merchant looked like he wanted to come over and kick Ross in the mush discussed balls. And as this was all going on, the candle burned past the red mark.

‘Sold.’ The auctioneer struck the desk with his gavel. ‘To…?’

‘The Poldark-Hawkins Trading Company.’ Ross could feel Jim’s eyes on him, his expression one of pure disbelief. The auctioneer nodded to the clerk and the man made the entry in the book in front of him.

‘Notice is given that of this day the brig Hispaniola is now the property of the Poldark-Hawkins Trading Company.’ He looked at Ross. ‘Terms for payment will be given.’

Ross nodded and sat back down, exhilaration filling him. It was all becoming real. He looked at Jim and saw wonder sparking in his blue-green eyes.

‘Why did you just do that?’ he asked.

‘We’re partners, aren’t we?’ Ross couldn’t look at him for long. ‘At least now if I hang, you’ll be right there beside me.’

Jim’s face split in a smile that bordered on devastating.

‘You keep surprising me, Ross Poldark.’ he said, and Ross allowed himself a small self-satisfied smirk.

‘Good.’ he replied. ‘Now, shall we pay the man and then go and have a look at our new acquisition?’

‘Yes.’ Jim got up. ‘I think that is a fine idea.’

*********

The auctioneer’s clerks had clearly not been prepared for Ross to unload four uncut diamonds on their desk, but they dealt with it remarkably, keeping their expressions completely unremarkable. Ross and Jim both signed the ledger of ownership and Ross accepted the receipt of payment and tucked it away inside his coat.

They left the offices and Jim held up one hand to flag down a cab, then turned to Ross.

‘Over there.’ He nodded in the direction of two men standing on the other idea of the road. Ross recognised them as having been part of the group inside the auction house, although they had bought nothing nor made any bids.

‘They’re not being very subtle.’ He remarked and Jim grinned. He gestured for Ross to get into the carriage.

‘Neither are we.’ he replied and Ross laughed.

‘No, I suppose not.’ He sat down, one hand going to his ribs. ‘I would pay good money to be a fly on the wall of Warleggan’s office when he hears of this.’

‘We must be careful.’ Jim said. He was now sitting opposite him. ‘If they have no qualms about trying to assassinate us, then you can be sure there will be no problem in them trying to take a pot shot at the ship.’

‘So what do you suggest?” Ross asked and Jim grinned.

‘I know a few people that will be itching to get back aboard.’ He looked out the window. ‘When we get to the docks, I’ll let them know that she’s once more in friendly hands.’

‘Where are they?’ Ross was curious.

‘In hiding.’ Jim said. ‘Silver is still a wanted man and he’s rather distinctive. But they are close enough that I can call on them.’

‘You said there were four of you who escaped.’ Ross looked at Him. ‘Who were they?’

‘The other two are William Manderley and Benjamin Gunn.’ Jim replied. ‘The ship’s boatswain and carpenter.’

‘And Mary?’ Ross asked. ‘She was the wife of the quartermaster?’

‘Thomas Carne.’ Jim sighed. ‘He was a good man.’ He grinned. ‘But you do Mary a disservice. She is every inch a sailor and was our pilot. She is the finest navigator I have ever come across and far more than you think she is.’

‘But she’s a woman.’ Ross was a little aghast at this news.

‘And my captain is a former slave.’ Jim replied. ‘That makes no difference to their skills and we offer an equal chance to all, regardless of their sex or creed. Mary is far from the only woman to sail with a privateer’s ship. In fact there are some who command fleets.’

‘Now that I find hard to believe.’ Ross replied and Jim laughed.

‘Be thankful then, for you have clearly never encountered the ruthlessness that comes along with them.’ His eyes were sharp. ‘Mary is merciless in despatching our foes. I once saw her cut a man’s head clean off.’

‘You’ve been at sea too long.’ Ross muttered. ‘How old were you exactly when you went?’

‘Eight.’ Jim said. ‘My father and mother ran a pub called the Admiral Benbow on the North Devon coast. One of the men that lodged with us was an old seafarer who passed one night. He gave me a book on shipcraft before he died. Secreted inside the back cover was a map. Unfortunately, my father had many debts and when he died of diphtheria only a few months later, the bailiffs came to collect on behalf on the local landowner.’ His expression hardened and Ross wondered just what that had entailed.

‘They took the map?’ he asked.

‘The map and me.’ Jim sat back, his eyes now flashing angrily. ‘He bought a ship and thought that I would make a good addition to the crew.’ His mouth twisted. ‘He had a taste for boys I was to discover, and he’d apparently taken a liking to my looks.’

That made Ross stare at him in shock.

‘Did he…?’ He could not finish the sentence.

‘No.’ Jim folded his arms. ‘He tried. I bit him on the hand hard enough to reach bone and he beat me in retaliation. Thankfully the ship’s cook was a kind man and he took me under his protection, reported what had happened to the captain and said that if it happened again, the crew would not react so kindly. The captain was a coward, weak willed. It was why the landowner had hired him in the first place. He was afraid of Silver and Silver made sure that I was never alone with either of them again.’ He smiled and it was cold. ‘Silver let me cut their throats myself when we mutinied. Then we took the ship and made for a cove where we joined others like us. I grew up a pirate and I am one still, all the way through to my bones.’

The carriage lurched to a stop and there was a tap on the roof.

‘I think we’re here.’ Jim said. ‘Come on. Let me show you the most beautiful woman in existence.’

‘You’ll forgive my scepticism on that count.’ Ross replied, his mouth quirking. ‘Given you distinct lack of experience.’

‘I can appreciate the aesthetics.’ Jim retorted and opened the door. He got out and waited for Ross, helping him down.

The carriage pulled away and Ross saw they were on East India dock. Ships were anchored off shore and alongside the walls and he followed Jim as they came down the quay.

‘There.’ Jim’s voice was light and happy. He stopped and pointed and Ross followed his outstretched hand to the last ship. They started walking again and she came into view as they got closer. Ross had to admit that she was lovely to look at with two masts and graceful lines from deck to keel. She was painted black with a broad red stripe along her hull and white sails. Her figurehead was of a Spanish lady, her head surmounted by a comb and mantilla.

‘So that’s our ship.’ Ross smiled. He had to admit that Jim was right, she really was beautiful. He turned and saw that he was watching him.

‘Yes.’ Jim returned the smile with interest. ‘She is.’


	16. Preparations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time for things to be put into place...

The afternoon progressed in quiet fashion and Jim took advantage of the fact by taking his leave and Demelza and going down to the foreshore to look for Mary. Her absence had been the result of her going to find Ben Gunn, who’d been working down the river on fishing boats and doing other odd repairs needed now that winter was approaching. Like Jim and Mary he was nondescript enough that he’d been tasked with making a living and had picked up a young apprentice named Israel Hands. Israel was the son of freed slaves who had been living in the capital until they were struck down with influenza the previous winter and the boy had found himself without a home. Ben had taken him on and they had been working up and down the river ever since.

Now they were in a small lighter Jim had hired off one of the many men that plied their trade between the ships and the shore. He’d paid slightly over the odds for its use, not wanting to be accompanied and he and Demelza were sailing down towards the estuary. She was in the bow, copper curls drifting around her face under her hat and every now and then she’d look back at him and smile.

It felt good to see her like that. Jim had missed her carefree happiness after seeing it evaporated when they’d finally tracked her and Mary down and she’d clung to her mother’s skirts and refused to even come to him, convinced her mind was playing tricks and that he was really dead. It had taken a week for her to finally approach him again and then when she’d discovered that he was in fact well and truly alive, she’d stuck to him like a limpet.

It was one of the reasons Mary gave her such free run. Demelza had grown up on board, but she’d quickly come to rule the foreshore with her odd ways and gift for knowing when dead men would turn up on the shingle, the contents of their pockets ripe for pilfering. He knew she was different, just like Tom had been. But her difference was far greater, and her habit of staring into the distance like she was watching something that was not there could be very disconcerting to the unschooled. It was now also starting to remind him of someone else.

That was all the encouragement Jim’s brain needed to change tack completely and then his head was filled with warm hazel eyes and his lost his train of thought completely. It was becoming problematic. Jim was good at separating his ambitions from what he felt and he’d always been able to steer clear of anything emotionally compromising. But now his heart sped up every time he was in Ross’ presence and the fear that had gripped him when he’d seen how badly Ross was injured was not something he’d ever felt before. And then of course, there was the fact that he’d been completely blindsided by just how damn attractive the man had looked that morning, dishevelled from sleep with his dark curls in disarray and a body that was well-muscled and covered in thick dark hair across the chest and stomach, not to mention the tattoos that ran the length of both arms. Jim had seen something similar when he’d been in the south Pacific, but these had looked different and he wondered where and how Ross had come to get them.

‘Jim?’ Demelza was watching him intently. ‘Are you thinking about Ross?’

Jim shot her a look. She was always doing that, reading him better than he could read himself.

‘So what if I am?’ He knew he sounded a little defensive but he also knew that this was the one person he could sound like that with. Demelza was the closest thing he had to a sister and he also knew she had a way of knowing things. Now she was grinning at him.

‘You know he thinks about you too.’ She turned back to the water. ‘I know he does.’

Jim huffed, not believing her.

‘He’s in love with his step-sister.’ he replied. ‘And I don’t think I’m quite what he looks for in a paramour.’

‘No, he likes you.’ Demelza stated with all the certainty a thirteen year old could have. ‘He likes men and women.’

‘How the blazes do you know that?’ Jim asked and she cackled, sounding remarkably like her mother.

‘Grace told me.’ She threw another glance at him over her shoulder. ‘She likes you.’

‘Grace?’ Jim frowned and Demelza rolled her eyes.

‘His mother.’ she explained and that just confounded Jim further.

‘His mother is dead.’ Then he fixed her with a stern look. ‘Oh no. Please tell me you are not.’

‘She’s been in the house since he got back.’ Demelza leaned over to trail grubby fingers in the even grubbier water.

‘Well don’t bloody tell him that.’ Jim said. ‘He’s just starting to come around. This would make him think we’re all mad if you start telling him you can speak to his dead mother.’

‘Maybe.’ Demelza’s eyes were sparkling. She looked suspiciously like she knew something that Jim didn’t and was immensely pleased about it.

Jim shook his head at her and she snickered and turned back to watch the waves.

*********

‘Now.’ Dwight sounded like he was about to give Ross a lecture. ‘Have you ever been to one of these establishments?’

‘Of course not.’ Ross snorted. ‘I didn’t make a habit of parading myself around in places like that.’

‘And yet…’ Dwight was grinning. ‘You do have a taste for men so it might not be as bad as you think.’

‘I do not have a taste for men.’ Ross folded his arms. ‘A few encounters doesn’t add up to anything.’

‘No, of course not.’ Dwight was having a grand time at his expense. ‘But still, you can’t just go thumping through there like a prize bull. You’ll give them all the vapours.’ 

‘Why am I even taking your advice?’ Ross grumbled. He started to get up from the couch where he’d been almost forcibly installed by Jim once they had returned from the docks but a glare from Dwight stopped him.

‘Because I have actually seen the inside of one of these places.’ he asserted. ‘And I know that you need a considerable amount of cleaning up if you’re going to pass.’

‘Fuck.’ Ross wanted to throw himself on the bed, but his side still hurt far too much for dramatics. ‘This is ridiculous.’

‘But necessary.’ Dwight replied. ‘Now, let’s talk about your ensemble.’

**********

Jim brought the lighter alongside the dock and Demelza hopped out and he threw the hawser to her and she secured it around the piling at the bow and then another at the stern. Jim climbed out as she was finishing it off and she looked to him for approval as she always had. He gave the knot a look and nodded and she beamed.

They started off down the dock and towards the buildings that clustered the bank. Mary had said she was headed this way and they soon got lost in the heaving mass of humanity that made their living from the river.

A few well-placed enquiries led them to a tavern at the far end of the settlement and they went inside, getting a series of looks as they did. Demelza stuck her nose in the air and ignored the grumbles about a child being in a place meant for men and Jim casually swept his coat aside to show the axe in his belt and the mutters soon subsided. He knew he looked like he could handle himself, his very manner a mixture of arrogance and assurance. Silver had taught him how to affect an attitude that would quiet most would be trouble-makers.

Demelza suddenly exclaimed and ran forward, her face lighting up. A figure came out of the gloom at the back and Jim smiled as he watched Mary gather her into her arms. They had had to hide their closeness and he knew it cost them both dear. Unfortunately, knowing that Mary loved her daughter to distraction would have made her a target for those who might bear them ill intentions and so she made a show of calling Demelza a little bitch and making it seem that she was more a burden than anything. It had worked but it also meant them spending less time together than either of them would have liked.

‘Jim.’ Mary looked at him over Demelza’s head and he smiled at her as he saw that she’d washed the awful black dye from her hair and now it shone as blazing red as her daughter’s. She was also dressed in man’s clothing, just as she had on board ship. ‘It’s good to see you.’

He came over and she pulled him into one arm and kissed his forehead. If Demelza had been as his sister, then Mary had been as his mother.

‘I am sorry about the last time we spoke.’ He returned her embrace. ‘I needed to get him on side.’

‘And it seems to have worked.’ Mary replied. ‘I hear talk that you have our ship back.’

‘How the hell…?’ Jim narrowed his eyes at her. ‘News travels fast.’

‘Your name is not what brings it.’ Mary sat down and pulled Demelza into her lap. ‘All kinds of people are jumping up and down about the return of Ross Poldark.’ She smiled and it had a knowing slant to it. ‘You’ve managed to get in bed with someone that is almost as disreputable as you are by all accounts.’

‘He’s not in bed with him yet.’ Demelza giggled, one arm around her mother’s neck and leaning into her. ‘But he wants to be.’

‘Hush you.’ Jim made a playful swipe at her and she batted his hand away.

‘You do.’ She crinkled her freckled nose. ‘You like him an awful lot. It’s why you two keep fighting.’ She looked at Mary. ‘Ross likes him too. Grace told me.’

‘Ah now.’ Mary kissed her on the cheek. ‘And who is Grace, my little blossom?’

‘Ross’ dead mother.’ Jim said. ‘Dem’s been talking to the dearly departed again.’

‘Can she be trusted?’ Mary looked at her daughter and Demelza nodded.

‘She’s very nice.’ she asserted. ‘And she smells lovely and she’s teaching me to read the cards.’

‘That’s good.’ Mary smiled and it was tinged with sadness. ‘Your Papa’s cards were lost with the ship. He will be pleased to know you have a teacher.’ She looked at Jim over Demelza’s head. ‘I’ve found Ben and Israel. They are finishing a job down at Gravesend and then they’ll be back to board the ship. Ben wants to get his hands on her and give her a thorough inspection.’

‘I’ll bet he does.’ Jim chuckled. ‘And Silver?’

‘He’ll come down under cover of darkness so he can slip aboard unnoticed.’ Mary replied. ‘That’s probably best.’

‘I agree.’ Jim nodded. ‘He and Billy are very conspicuous and the Company is having both Ross and I watched.’ His smile turned feral. ‘Although we led them a merry dance this afternoon, didn’t we Dem?’

‘We did.’ Demelza’s eyes sparkled.

‘And how did you manage to elude them?’ Mary asked, raising a coppery eyebrow at Jim.

‘Demelza got her little gang to surround them.’ Jim laughed. ‘They harassed them so badly, the poor sods got completely turned around.’

‘That’s my clever little pirate.’ Mary said fondly, nuzzling into her daughter’s neck and Demelza laughed in delight. ‘So what have you in store for this evening then, or can I persuade you to stay and drink with me for a while?’

‘You can keep her until you are ready to come down the river.’ Jim said. ‘Tomorrow perhaps?’

‘I can do that.’ Mary replied. ‘I’ve done my task and it will be good to feel the ship under my feet again. I’ve missed her.’

‘We all have.’ Jim said. ‘As for myself, I am taking Ross on the town this evening.’

‘To a molly-house.’ Demelza declared.

‘And just what are you looking for in there?’ Mary fixed him with a look. ‘Besides an excuse to ravish him?’

‘I am not ravishing anybody.’ Jim retorted. ‘We’ve found a chink in the Company’s armour and are looking to exploit it.’

‘Good.’ Mary chuckled. ‘Although it’s a pity about the ravishing. Ross looks like he’d provide you with an excellent fuck. Better than your usual catalogue of conquests.’

‘I’ll thank you to stay well out of it.’ Jim snorted. ‘Fucking Ross Poldark is not in the plan.’

‘No?’ Mary and Demelza shared a conspiratorial look. ‘Maybe it should be.’

‘Christ.’ Jim muttered, getting up. ‘If this is the way the conversation is headed, I need a fucking drink.’

*********

‘No.’ Dwight was lounging on the bed in Joshua’s room, drinking a glass of brandy and dispensing fashion advice. Jud had found this ridiculous in the extreme and decided to come and put in his two pence worth and Black Dog had decided she didn’t like being left alone downstairs and was now on the floor in front of the fireplace.

Ross in the meantime had soundly rejected every combination of colours that they had suggested. He loathed brightness in all forms and it was now only through sheer bloody-mindedness that they had convinced him that Joshua’s red damask waistcoat was an excellent option if he was going to be so difficult about the whole thing.

‘I look like a dandy.’ he grumbled and they rolled their eyes at him in perfect synchronisation.

‘You’re going to a bleedin’ molly-house, lad.’ Jud pointed out. ‘You’re supposed to look like a dandy.’

‘I look absurd is what I meant.’ Ross snorted. He waved a hand at Jud. ‘At least I can wear a black coat.’

‘That’s going to wreck the whole look.’ Dwight protested. ‘You look like a marginally cheerful crow. Why not grey or brown?’

‘At least the hair won’t be a problem.’ Jud snickered. ‘It does that wind swept thing all by itself.’ He drank from his own glass, a reward for having spent the best part of the afternoon polishing Ross’ boots to a mirror shine.

We’ll leave the neck cloth for Jim to supervise.’ Dwight suggested. ‘I trust he will do a better job than both of us combined.’

‘Why on Earth did my father buy all of these?’ Ross was regarding the wardrobe with a sour expression. ‘No bloody wonder there’s no money left.’

‘He enjoyed ‘imself.’ Jud chuckled. ‘I reckon he decided that if ‘e was going down, ‘ed take what he could with ‘im.’

‘You’ll look just like one of Prinny’s set.’ Dwight sat up and Black Dog took that as an invitation to jump up and head for the bed to have her ears fondled.

‘I don’t want to be one of the fucking set.’ Ross grumbled.

‘Well, that’s just your bad luck.’ Jud went over and regarded him. ‘Now to bath with you.’

‘I’ve already had a bloody bath this week.’ Ross muttered, but he gave in and resigned himself to the fact that he was going to end up in water to his eyebrows once again.

**********

Jim spent an hour with Mary and left Demelza in her care before sailing back up the river. It was now bordering on darkness, and he lit the small lantern hanging from the small fore mast with the tinder and flint he always carried. By the time he was back at the Wapping docks, it was completely black and he left the boat with its owner and made for the house.

He had to wash and dress still, but being an actor Jim was well versed in the art of dressing at an uncommonly quick speed. He got to the front door and let himself in. The front parlour was bathed in a warm glow from the fire and Black Dog got up to come and do her now customary sniff and greeting. Jim scratched her ears and took off his coat, hanging it up and then frowning because there was no sign of anyone else. Then he heard someone ranting upstairs and grinned. From the depth of the voice, he knew it was Ross.

He went back to and started his ascension, grinning as the language turned particularly blue. The noise was coming from the dressing room adjoining Joshua’s bedroom and Jim went and stood in the open door. What he saw almost made his jaw drop. He’d admired how nicely Ross had cleaned up when they had gone to the Penvenens but that was nothing compared to this.

Ross was back in black again but the waistcoat was a deep ruby and it made him look spectacular. Not only that, but his curls had been left to dry naturally rather than tamed into submission and it gave him the most deliciously wild look. He was standing and gritting his teeth to judge from the expression on his face while Jud attempted to get the neck cloth correct and muttering about the overly starched collar. He spotted Jim and made a ‘See what you have started?’ gesture. Jim just laughed and came into the room, holding out a hand to Jud.

‘Oh thank Christ.’ Jud handed the neck cloth to him and stomped out and left them alone with each other. Jim gave Ross a thorough examination and then looked up into furious hazel eyes.

‘You make a fine dandy.’ He smiled and Ross glared at him.

‘It’s even worse than last time.’ he complained. ‘I can’t even see my fucking boots.’

‘It’ll be worth it.’ Jim had to stand slightly on tip toe as he looped the cloth around the back of Ross’ neck. ‘No-one will think twice about letting you in.’

‘I bloody hope so.’ Ross muttered. ‘I hate this more than I could possibly say.’

‘I don’t know.’ Jim chuckled, looping the neck cloth around and trying not to look too hard at Ross’ face. This close he could see tiny scattered dark brown freckles and admire the lovely curve of his eyebrows and mouth. ‘You seemed to be expressing yourself very well earlier.’ He pulled the cloth tight and started the complicated process of tying it off.

‘I suppose I’ll have to mind my manners this evening.’ Ross snorted. ‘Fitting in with all those of delicate disposition.’

‘I think you’ll find yourself somewhat mistaken.’ Jim stepped back and surveyed his handiwork. ‘Good. Now I am going to get ready. Get Jud to call a carriage. You’re still not riding.’

Ross huffed and turned to the mirror.

‘How the hell you enjoy getting dressed up, I shall never understand.’ he said and Jim smiled as he came to stand beside him, noting the difference in their heights.

‘I’m an actor.’ he replied, unable to resist reaching up and smoothing the coat along Ross’ broad shoulders. ‘It’s all playing a role to me.’

‘I’ll bet twenty shillings you don’t wear this on ship.’ Ross glanced down at him and their eyes met. Jim could almost swear there was something in those dark eyes, a strange sort of hesitation.

‘I don’t.’ He stepped back, giving himself some breathing space. His heart was racing again and he took a second to inwardly curse himself for being this fixated this swiftly. He ducked his head to break the look. ‘I must go. I’ll be ready in a little while.’

‘Don’t take too long.’ Ross sounded like he wanted to murder someone. ‘I want this evening to be done with as soon as possible.’

Jim nodded brusquely and left the room, headed for downstairs again after a brief stop for the bar of soap in his room and a cloth to dry himself with. Unlike most well-bred young men, he hated bathing. On ship it was a simple case of waiting for rain or leaping over the side and so he chose the pump for his ablutions rather than have Jud bring up water. Jim found him coming in from the yard as he got downstairs.

‘You did a fine job.’ he said and Jud sniggered.

‘Ross ‘as always hated getting dressed up.’ He shook with silent laughter. You should ‘ave seen him when ‘e was a boy.’

‘I can well imagine.’ Jim replied and went out to wash.

**********

Upstairs, Ross gave himself a long look in the mirror.

‘I look silly.’ He frowned and an invisible hand gently stroked his brow and smoothed out the lines.

_You look wonderful._

Ross sighed and stared into the mirror where Grace now stood behind him. Like him she had the same wild black curls. Joshua’s hair had been straight as a pin but Ross had gotten his near untameable mane from her. She was wearing her favourite dress in the softest shade of lavender and her thick curls were pinned up as had been fashionable when Ross had only been a boy. Her eyes were several shades darker than his own, her skin more olive. It was one of the reasons women had tittered behind their fans at her and called her the Gypsy Witch. She met her son’s eyes and smiled and this was Ross’ smile too.

_I am very proud of the man you have become, Ross. And we are so close to what we have been searching for._

‘What do you mean?’ Ross asked and she lifted a spectral hand and laid it on his shoulder.

 _Your happiness of course._ Her dark eyes twinkled at him.

‘I’ll be happy when I have made a fool of the Company and eclipsed my father’s name.’ Ross replied. ‘That is all I need to make me happy. You shouldn’t go putting ideas in other people’s heads.’

Grace laughed, soft and light.

_My darling son, that little girl sees more clearly than I ever did. I didn’t need to tell her anything. She’s a remarkable child. I am very glad you bought her here._

‘I didn’t bring her.’ Ross pointed out. ‘She just…arrived.’ He huffed and then turned and saw how the sunlight from the window shone through the shape of his mother. ‘I don’t even know why.’

 _Everyone who you have come to know has their own thing to show you._ Grace was using that tone she had when he was little and she wanted him to pay attention to what she was saying. _I always taught you that things happen and you meet people for a reason and you know this is often the case yourself._ She smiled. _Demelza needs someone to guide her, just as I guided you._

‘I don’t have time to teach her.’ Ross protested. ‘I need to focus on other things.’

 _That is because you do not see how all of this fits together._ Grace chided. _Your one great weakness has always been your impatience. You see the objective but have no time for the examination of just how you will get to it. Trust me when I say that Demelza is important to you. You will need her and she will need you in the days to come._ The smile grew knowing. _And she is not the only one._

‘Yes.’ Ross couldn’t help returning the smile. ‘I noticed that little trick with the cards this morning.’

 _It is true what I said_. Grace shrugged, a gesture that was the mirror image of himself. _But you are the one to make that choice_.

‘You think I should forget Elizabeth?’ Ross asked, defensive in what he knew was the question he was now starting to ask himself. ‘Forget what we had and start charging after…’ He trailed off, unable to finish the sentence.

 _You wouldn’t be charging._ Grace replied. _If anything he would happily meet you halfway. She never did that. She always made you feel as if you didn’t deserve her attention. If she had given you half the love you gave her, she would have left with you that night. You did ask her._

Ross thought back to that night, the confrontation with his father still burning bright in his mind. Grace as telling the truth. Elizabeth had told him not to leave before he’d spoken to Joshua and he’d asked her to go with him. She had refused, citing family responsibilities and her mother and that what they had done was sinful and irresponsible. Ross had been furious enough that he’d run into the fight headlong and then he’d looked to her and she’d fallen back in the face of her mother’s anger, running upstairs and hiding from what Ross thought was something they were both willing to fight for.

‘I shouldn’t have left her.’ He sighed heavily. ‘I should have gone back for her.’

 _Well you didn’t. And then she found someone else._ Grace reminded him. _And now you want to upset her life and drag her away with you to the ends of the earth to live a life far from the comforts she has always known. Do you really think that is what she would want for herself? Or are you just being selfish in wanting to reclaim something you think of as rightfully yours? Jim is willing to take you on as you are and he more than matches you for temper. He is far more suited to you, but you are being stubborn and refusing to see what is in front of your face, as usual._

‘You’re encouraging this?’ Ross asked, more than a little bemused. ‘Even though he is…well, you clearly know what he is.’

 _And you are a murderer, selfish to the core, reckless and obstinate_. Grace laughed. _Yes, actually I am encouraging this wholeheartedly._

‘Don’t hold your breath.’ Ross snorted. ‘You know how I never listen.’

 _You’re already listening_. Grace sounded smug. _If not to me then to what you heart is telling you_.

‘It’s not telling me a thing.’ Ross refuted.

 _Of course not, my love_. Grace looked towards the door. _But now I have to go. Jud’s coming back and I don’t think he needs to think you any madder than he already does_.

She glimmered and faded from sight and Ross turned in time to see Jud appear at the door.

‘What do you want?’ Ross asked and he frowned.

‘To tell you that Jim’s washing under the pump like a stable boy.’ he replied. ‘You could tell ‘im he can wash in ‘ere.’

‘If that’s what he chooses to do far be it for me to correct him.’ Ross huffed. ‘Why don’t you go tell him?’

Jud gave him a filthy look and stomped off again and Ross pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation. Then he waited until a decent interval had passed and he knew that Jud was back downstairs before he left the dressing room and went into the room across the corridor and to the window.

True enough, Jim was down in the yard. He was half naked once again and Ross watched as he shook the water off and then proceeded to dry himself. He looked like he should be half freezing to death and Ross recalled what Grace had said about Elizabeth and dragging her off into the wilderness.

He kept watching, soon entranced by the way Jim’s muscles moved under his tanned skin as he finished drying and then turned and talked to Jud, who was presumably in the door. He laughed, dimples and white teeth on display and Ross felt his stomach lurch pleasantly.

‘No.’ Dwight’s voice at his ear startled him and he visibly jumped. ‘You obviously have no interest in him at all.’

‘Bloody hell.’ Caught unawares, Ross stepped back and tried to look unruffled. ‘Don’t sneak up on me like that.’

‘But it’s so easy when you are clearly not watching Jim without his shirt on.’ Dwight was grinning like a madman. He laughed and gave Ross a once over. ‘I see that he’s obviously had his hands on you.’

‘Only the neck cloth.’ Ross grumbled and stalked out the room.

*********

Jim got done and came back inside, heading up to Joshua’s room. He heard the attic door slam just as he got to the middle of the stairs and found Dwight leaning against the balustrade and grinning down at him.

‘He’s in a right mood.’ he said, clearly amused. ‘I’m not sure he’ll make the best company this evening.’

‘He’ll just have to put up with it.’ Jim replied, walking past him to the door. Dwight followed him in and resumed his position on the bed. Jim was unaffected by his spectator. He made a living of dressing and undressing in front of others and had no modesty to speak of.

He started getting ready and then felt Dwight’s eyes boring into his back. He turned around and the grin was back.

‘I wonder what kind of upbringing you had that you wash in the yard like the help.’ he said, shifting to be more comfortable.

‘I grew up in a pub.’ Jim replied. ‘And I know the value of looking respectable.’ He smiled. ‘Although now that I am going back into business so to speak, I may change that.’

‘So this house you’re taking him to?’ Dwight was now examining his nails. ‘What exactly are you proposing to do there.’

‘Nothing you’re thinking of.’ Jim retorted as he started to take clothes out of his trunk. He gave them a critical look and then went to the door. He called for Jud and then went back to the trunk, digging around. Dwight sat up and moved to the end of the bed, peering into the trunk. Jim laughed and took out a few more things.

‘Not a lot of interest in here.’ he said and Dwight shrugged.

‘I am naturally of a curious bent.’ He shifted closer and took out the dirk. ‘What manner of blade is this?’

‘It’s a dirk.’ Jim took it back and stowed it away. ‘It’s a naval blade. I took it off a Frenchman.’

‘How did you manage that?’ Dwight asked. ‘I am intrigued as to how an merchant sailor happened across a French naval man.’ He chuckled. ‘Or maybe I do not want to know.’

‘You mean Ross hasn’t told you?’ Jim was now rather amused. ‘And you haven’t managed to figure it out?’ He laughed. ‘That amazes me.’

‘No.’ Dwight frowned. ‘Although I do now know how you and Joshua came to know each other.’ He placed a subtle emphasis on the word ‘know’.

Jim levelled a look at him and then shut the trunk abruptly enough to make Dwight flinch back just a little.

‘And?’ He put the smallest amount of challenge in it.

‘And nothing.’ Dwight shrugged. ‘I have no arguments.’ He met Jim’s eyes. ‘Is there more? It sounds like there might be more?’ His smiled widened as he held up a folded piece of paper. ‘Maybe this will answer the question.’

Jim stared at him, completely dumbfounded.

‘How the blazes…’ He had to admit he was impressed.

‘I can spot something hidden in the lining of a trunk a mile away.’ Dwight waved the paper at him. ‘I haven’t looked at it. Care to tell me what it is.’

‘That’s easily done.’ Jim decided to take the bull by the horns. ‘Look for yourself if you want to know.’

Dwight unfolded the paper and Jim watched him read. His look of amazement was very gratifying.

‘This is a letter of marque.’ He had a glint in his eye. ‘And it’s got your name on it.’

‘It does.’ Jim was smiling. He reached for the letter of marque and Dwight laughed and handed it over to him. Jim took it and put it back in its hiding place.

‘So the whole story about the Hispaniola being a merchant ship is a fabrication?’ Dwight's eyes were twinkling.

‘What do you think?’ Jim asked.

‘That last night you and Ross got into an altercation that left him with a hole in his side and yet you got away with that.’ He nodded at Jim’s lip. ‘You’re no merchant sailor.’

‘No, I’m not.’ Jim was now mostly dressed. He sat to pull on the boots he’d taken from the trunk that he kept wrapped in cloth to preserve the shine.

‘So what are you then?’ Dwight asked. ‘No-one just becomes a privateer overnight.’

‘I think you’ve answered your own question.’ Jim picked up his waistcoat and put it on, buttoning it up and then checking the lines. This one had been bought for him by a wealthy young Parisian rake he’d fallen into bed with not a month before. It was pitch black and embroidered with steel blue thread in an Eastern pattern of crysanthemums. Jim liked to push the boundaries of fashion and it went perfectly with the shirt and collar which was also black and specially dyed. The Parisian dandies had a much more avant-garde approach and Jim had been quite taken with the way they dressed. Dwight was now looking at him in fascination.

‘You look like a funeral home employee.’ He gave the black neck cloth in Jim’s hands a bemused look. ‘Is that on purpose?’

‘It is.’ Jim moved to look at himself in the mirror and swiftly tied the cloth into a perfect knot. He raked his fingers through his curls, the residual dampness defining them clearly. He knew his hair was one of his best features and leaving it loose always garnered him plenty of attention.

Maybe this night it would work.

‘Well in that case, you seem well prepared should things to go wrong.’ Dwight laughed. He looked at Jim and then nodded approvingly. ‘And looking like that you may well get your man.’

‘What the hell is that supposed to mean?’ Jim.

‘The Company man you’re trying to trap.’ Dwight said, all innocence. ‘Who were you thinking of?’

‘No-one.’ Jim replied. ‘No-one at all.’


	17. An Inside Man

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A trip to the molly house does wonders for the conspiracy...and something else too :DDDD

The carriage rattled down the street and inside the tension was so thick Ross was amazed that he and Jim could still see each other. It had been like that since they had left the house.

Jim was looking out the window with that faraway look he got and Ross was desperate to know what he was thinking about. Jim had been quiet, which was most unlike him, and it was making Ross feel jittery, something he was very unused to. He finally decided enough was enough and broke the silence.

‘What exactly will I be walking into tonight?’ he asked and Jim shrugged but didn’t look at him.

‘It’s a very discreet establishment.’ He sounded thoughtful. ‘The place is a private house, not unlike the clubs men of your class spend their time in.’ He smiled. ‘It hides in plain sight. That’s why it has never had any problem with the constabulary.’

‘And the clientele?’ Ross watched him carefully.

‘Very exclusive, largely older men bored with their safe lives and looking for some bright young thing to entertain them.’ Jim explained. ‘Some come with others that they have procured – soldiers and young men from the streets - but many come just to be themselves.’ He now fixed Ross with a searching look. ‘Haven’t you ever wanted that? Just to be yourself?’

‘I am myself.’ Ross insisted but he felt the lie as surely as if he’d been cut. More and more he was starting to wonder who that was. Jim’s mouth quirked and he went back to looking out the window.

‘Just stay close tonight.’ he advised. ‘I would hate for anything untoward to happen to you.’

Ross snorted.

‘I am quite capable of fending off the mollies.’ he replied. ‘It’s the ones who hide their sharp teeth behind innocent smiles that I worry about.’

‘Do you include me in that count?’ Jim asked, and there was a teasing lilt in his voice.

‘Most certainly.’ Ross looked at him, and for a moment he allowed himself to bask in the beauty in front of him and not think of anything else. ‘You most of all. You are dangerous, Jim Hawkins.’

‘More than you could possibly know.’ Jim answered and then sat up and rapped the carriage roof with his knuckles so it came to a stop. ‘We walk from here.’

Holburn was buzzing with activity when they got down from the carriage. Jim led the way through the people around, seemingly completely comfortable in his surroundings, and Ross followed.

He had been somewhat amazed when Jim had finally come down, not quite expecting what he’d seen. His clothing had been far more sombre than Ross had expected, all black with the glimmer of blue on his waistcoat the only concession. It had made him look starkly beautiful, his blue-green eyes made even brighter.

Now he walked along, head up, and people seemed to part in front of him as water before the bow of a ship. The arrogant set of his head and the blond curls made him striking and as they neared their destination Ross noticed that Jim was turning more than a few heads.

What completely took him by surprise was that he felt an uneasy feeling settling in his stomach, a desire to step next to him and challenge those that looked so freely and make them aware that Jim was not available to them.

The street was lined with establishments of a seemingly normal kind, although Ross did notice that there was an uncommon number of soldiers and men in the street. That in itself gave some indication of the district they were now in and when Jim stopped outside the gates of a large house, Ross was momentarily confused. Then he remembered what Jim had said in the carriage about these kinds of places being hidden in plain sight and followed him through and to the front door where they entered into s spacious hall decorated lavishly in the Roman fashion.

Two large men stood at the bottom of the staircase and Jim walked right up to them, completely at ease. They moved to bar his path and Ross got the idea that they were not convinced, especially when they looked pointedly in his direction. Jim had stopped and now addressed them.

‘Gentlemen.’ He smiled. ‘What is this?’

‘There’s been three raids in as many nights.’ One of the men said, his voice rough and uncultured. ‘Mrs Winter wants all guests to be vetted.’

Jim laughed but Ross could now tell he was a little thrown, seeing the slight tension creep into the slope of his shoulders.

‘But you know me.’ he replied.

‘That I do.’ The man nodded at Ross. ‘But I don’t know ‘im.’

‘He’s with me.’ Jim’s smile was sharp and Ross could feel the authority coming off him in waves. ‘That’s all you need to know.’

‘Not tonight, Jim.’ The man was doing his best to sound apologetic but he held his ground. ‘You can’t be too careful. The Fox got done just yesterday. Men coming in dressed the part and acting the part and then arresting everyone inside and taking Max with ‘em to the clink.’

‘For Christ’s sake.’ Jim huffed. ‘You want vetting? Here.’

He turned and Ross was caught entirely on the back foot when he realised that Jim was coming to him. He was at a loss as to what he was about to do when Jim didn’t stop, just moved right into his space and raised a hand.

‘Jim…?’ It was the only word Ross managed to get out before Jim raised himself on his toes. The hand he held up went to the back of Ross’ neck and then he was there, close enough for Ross to feel his warm breath ghost over his mouth before Jim kissed him.

He had never ever considered what he’d done with others before to be infidelity, not when it had been fulfilling a purely physical need. The men and women he’d fucked had meant nothing to him and the last kiss he’d had had been the final one from Elizabeth the day before he’d left his home never to return.

This kiss was as different from that one as night to day.

Jim’s mouth was warm and firm and the kiss had the same intensity to it that everything he did had. He held Ross still, the strength in his grip sending a single white hot burst of desire through Ross’ chest as he found himself responding on instinct. He kissed back and felt a shiver go through Jim and then everything around them melted away and he was lost, but just as he started to lean into the kiss Jim pulled away. His face was schooled into a carefully neutral expression, but Ross swore he could see reluctance and an answering heat in his light eyes. He turned back to the two men and raised one golden eyebrow.

‘Satisfied?’ He sounded insolent and they looked at each other and then stepped aside. Ross followed on his heels as Jim took the invitation and started up the stairs.

The sound of music floated down the stairs as they climbed. There was a landing in front of them, the light here only provided by a row of torches. A huge pair of ornately carved wooden doors sat at the top of the stairs and they were flanked by footmen in Turkish dress, their loose white shirts open to reveal their smooth chests. They inclined their heads as Jim and Ross approached and then grasped a gilded door handle each and pulled them open. Beyond was a dimmed room, the smell of perfume and rich food drifting out to meet them. Ross had barely a chance to collect his thoughts, heart racing from the kiss of only moments before. He wanted to stop, to calm himself, but Jim went right in and he had to follow to keep sight of him.

The room was full of men, some dressed as elegantly as he and Jim were and some in fine gowns, their faces made up and elaborate wigs on their heads. They sat in small groups at tables or stood in alcoves, chatting and drinking and in some cases more than that. Attendants moved between them with silver trays, dispensing drinks and sweetmeats as they passed.

Jim stopped and scanned the room, then took off in the direction of a portly gentleman on the far side, leaving Ross standing and looking like a wallflower at a ball. He was about to follow when a man walked into his path, tall and effeminate and giving Ross a decidedly predatory look.

‘You’re new.’ he remarked, his eyes roving from head to foot over Ross.

Ross tried to look past him. He could just see Jim talking to the man he’d gone over to. The man was gesturing behind Jim and Ross looked in that direction and saw a door to another room.

‘And I’m not staying long.’ he retorted, neatly side stepping the man and walking through the others, elbowing people aside until he got to Jim.

‘Well?’ he demanded and Jim and the older man both looked at him.

‘Well, he’s very direct.’ The older man remarked with a wry smile.

‘He’s fucking rude is what he is.’ Jim’s words were blunt but he had an odd little smile on his face. ‘Elliot, this is Ross.’

‘A pleasure.’ Elliot inclined his head and Ross found himself nodding back. Elliot had a decidedly intellectual air about him and he wasn’t as flamboyant as some of the others. ‘I see you have already made a friend.’

Ross turned around and saw the man that had intercepted him talking with three others and that they were all giving Ross appreciative glances.

‘Christ.’ Jim muttered. ‘You’re the fucking belle of the ball by the looks of things.’ He took Ross’ arm, shot the men a poisonous look and pulled Ross with him, talking as they walked. ‘Unwin is here. He’s in the ladies’ room.’

‘What the hell is that?’ Ross asked and Jim nodded at the door in front of them.

‘In there.’ he hissed. ‘And for God’s sake, keep your mouth shut.’

Ross glared at him but kept his mouth shut as Jim opened the door and gestured for him to go through. The second he did though, he could see why Jim had said what he’d had.

The room was much darker than the previous one, the only illumination provided by strategically placed candles and the fireplace. It was also filled with furniture more conducive to horizontal activities and from what Ross could see they were being put to good use.

The pair closest to him were kissing as intimately as any married couple might and that was only the start of it. There was another pair to his right, one dressed as a woman and one as a man. The man had his hand up the skirts of the other, the jerking motion indicating all too clearly what he was doing, while his companion made a show of blushing and protesting in a ladylike voice behind the fan he was holding. At the back of the room, another molly in a black dress and magnificent silver wig was wielding a tailed whip, using it to flog the large pale buttocks of the man bent over the rosewood table in front of him while a group of others spectated.

‘Ross?’ Jim’s voice was filled with barely restrained laughter. ‘Are you all right?’ Your mouth is hanging open and I am starting to worry you’ve taken leave of your senses.’

‘This entire place is a den of iniquity.’ Ross couldn’t tear his eyes away.

‘Strong words from a man who’s killed in the name of acquisition.’ Jim retorted. He was back to scanning the room and Ross noticed that he was squinting just the tiniest bit in the gloom. ‘I do believe that is what we’re after.’ He nodded and Ross looked in the direction he’d indicated.

At the far side was a small group of mollies, all made up to look like maidens with curled wigs and soft faces. It was hard to tell if Unwin was amongst them, but then one of them shifted in their seat and Ross caught a glimpse of a long thin nose and a pinched face.

‘You have good eyes, Jim.’ He started forward and Jim caught his arm again, restraining him.

‘Wait a moment.’ Jim said. ‘We don’t want to startle him too much.’

They started edging their way towards the group. Unfortunately at the last minute, Unwin looked up and saw them. His eyes went wide and he almost fell out of his seat in shock. He got up abruptly, almost upsetting the table in front of him with his skirts, and then scuttled off. Jim and Ross were after him immediately, tailing him into a further room. Here there was a huge four poster bed, mercifully empty of occupants.

Unwin was by the curtains at the far end. He quailed when he saw them and tried to hide behind the fabric, lowering his head to hide his face and lifting his fan to cover his mouth.

‘Please, sirs.’ His voice was shaking. ‘Taken, sirs.’

‘Ross, close the door.’ Jim’s voice was now flat.

Ross huffed in annoyance at being ordered around, but went to close it as instructed. He came back as Jim rounded on Unwin, grabbing him by the arm and hauling him into the space at the end of the bed.

‘Well, well Mr Trevaunance.’ He was grinning. ‘Aren’t you a pretty little thing?’ He gave the man a shove and he fell onto the bed. Unwin tried frantically to right himself, now crying from fear.

‘Please.’ He was barely coherent. ‘I am doing no harm.’

‘True.’ Jim replied. ‘But the establishment that you work for tried to kill us last night. You’ll have to forgive us for taking it personally.’

‘I had no part in that.’ Unwin sobbed. His make-up was running and making black streaks down his face. ‘I am only a clerk.’

‘You’re Cary Warleggan’s clerk.’ Jim folded his arms. ‘And I do believe that’s who gave the orders for the two of us to be summarily despatched.’

‘No, no, no.’ Unwin babbled. ‘I swear to you, I know nothing of that.’

‘Maybe not.’ Ross growled, coming forward and grabbing Unwin by the front of his dress and shaking him so hard his wig tumbled off. ‘But you know any number of other things that we may well find damned useful.’

‘Please.’ Unwin was now on the verge of breaking down. ‘What do you want from me?’

‘Information.’ Jim came to stand alongside Ross but he made no move to stop him. ‘We need a man on the inside. Someone who can report their plans and movements to us.’

‘That’s right.’ Ross agreed. ‘Not only that, but there are other things we may well need you to do, certain ideas that we would like you to pass along.’ He grinned, the glint of teeth making him look wolfish.

‘I can’t.’ Unwin whined. ‘They’ll kill me of they find out.’

‘So make sure they don’t find out.’ Jim replied. ‘Do that and Ross will make sure you are handsomely compensated for anything you tell us.’ He glanced up and grinned at the look of outrage on Ross’ face.

‘And if I don’t?’ Unwin asked, his face screwed up in panic.

‘Then we tell the Company just how you spend the wages they give you.’ Ross gave him another shake for good measure. ‘I can’t think they would take too kindly to having a molly in their midst.’

‘Please.’ Unwin buried his face in his hands. ‘You cannot ask me this.’

‘You really don’t have a choice.’ Jim said, not unkindly. ‘Look at this as an investment in your safe and secure future. You help us and in return you’re going to be rewarded.’

‘I don’t want to be rewarded.’ Unwin’s head bowed, his face now utterly miserable.

‘And one more thing.’ Ross added. ‘Your courtship of Caroline Penvenen stops this instant.’ He caught Jim’s smile and ignored it. ‘Do you agree to those terms?'

‘I have no choice.’ Unwin nodded. ‘I agree.’

‘Good.’ Ross fished a sovereign out of his pocket. ‘You start with immediate effect. The Company warehouse at Wapping Wall. I want to know how heavily it is guarded.’

Unwin groaned, sounding like an animal in pain.

‘I can’t.’ he pleaded.

‘You will.’ Jim insisted. ‘Now tell us.’

‘There are three watches at the main gate.’ Unwin finally replied. ‘The guard changes every four hours and there are twelve men posted along the walls. The gate itself has four men manning it.’

‘The men guarding the gate?’ Ross asked. ‘Company soldiers I take it?’

‘Yes.’ Unwin nodded for emphasis.

‘How many ways in and out?’ Jim looked at Ross.

‘Only the main gate.’ Unwin answered. ‘It has both door and portcullis.’

‘And what are the guards armed with?’ Ross gave him a kick as he started to cry again. ‘Out with it.’

‘Rifles.’ Unwin snivelled. ‘Now can I please go?’

Ross looked at Jim, who nodded. He stuck the sovereign down the front of Unwin’s dress and then patted him on the cheek.

‘Good girl.’ He straightened up. ‘I think that’s all we need.’

‘I think so.’ Jim replied, eyes sparkling. ‘Shall we take our leave?’

Just as he said the words though, a tremendous kerfuffle broke out behind the closed door. There was the sound of many people crashing through and high pitched screaming.

‘Oh God!’ Unwin wailed. ‘We are raided!’ He started to howl and Ross turned and backhanded him across the face, promptly shutting him up.

‘Now what?’ he glared at Jim.

‘The window.’ Jim was already on the move. He ran to the one in the far wall and unfastened the catches, then hauled it up. ‘Bring him, quickly!’

Ross grabbed Unwin by the arm and half dragged him, half led him to the window. Jim bundled Unwin through it but even as he did, the door exploded in fragments as the soldiers that were raiding the house broke through.

‘Fuck!’ Ross spat and looked around, grabbing the poker and using it in a broad handed sweep to hit the first one across the face and making bones crack. Next to him, Jim was already into the fray. He dodged the blow meant for him, broke the soldier's nose with a well placed hit and then neatly disarmed him of his hangar and used it to run him through. He chucked it to Ross and then threw himself through the window. Ross couldn’t help laughing at the ridiculous situation he found himself in. He wheeled around, blocking the blow of the next man to him and engaging in a moment’s hand to hand before despatching him with a strike to the gut, hurling the sword aside and doing the same.

The fall took him completely by surprise. The only thing more surprising was that he landed in a hay cart at the bottom of it.

‘I am starting to think the fates are on our side.’ Jim quipped as Ross surfaced from the straw. He was at the side of the cart, still holding onto Unwin and with hay stuck in his blond curls. ‘Our pigeon was trying to fly the coop. I think he needs safe delivery to his home, don’t you?’

Ross hopped out the cart and looked up at the window. There were shouts coming from the house and men and mollies fleeing in all directions.

‘Good idea.’ he replied.

They took Unwin back to the small set of rooms he called home, paying the cab driver extra to keep his mouth shut and then taking another one back to Nampara. The news seemed to be all over the city by the time Jim suggested that he and Ross take a walk down to the docks to cool off.

Ross readily agreed and they found themselves drinking in one of the small taverns that crowded the wharf. Their dress meant that they got a lot of funny looks when they walked in, but their matching glares meant they were left alone with their drinks.

‘Christ.’ Ross drank half his bumper before stopping for a breath. ‘Is a night out with you always this exciting?’

‘Only when it’s a good night.’ Jim replied, laughing at his look of disgust.

Ross watched him for a moment and then started laughing as well. He found that he couldn’t stop and it was a strangely wonderful feeling, the two of them sitting there in such derelict surroundings drinking brandy that was barely a cut above firewater and dressed like gentlemen. They laughed and laughed until eventually they were both breathless.

‘I am starting to think you’re not quite sane.’ Ross refilled his glass from the bottle they had purchased.

‘And you’re probably correct on that count.’ Jim held out his now empty glass and Ross did the same for him. ‘Although I think I might not be the only one. Did you have any idea what was outside the window when you followed me?’

‘No.’ Ross shook his head. ‘I just thought that if you were going out that way, you must be reasonably confident of a safe landing.’

‘Well, that at least indicates you must trust me a little.’ Jim chuckled and Ross froze for just a second as he realised that Jim was right. He did in fact trust him, more than he probably trusted anyone else. That brought him down to earth with a bump and reminded him of something.

‘Why did you kiss me?’ he asked abruptly and Jim choked on his brandy, coughing furiously.

‘What?’ His eyes were wide and Ross felt a sense of triumph as having completely flustered him by the look of things.

‘At the house.’ He took another drink. ‘You kissed me.’

‘I had to.’ Jim protested. ‘To get them to let us in.’ He avoided Ross’ eyes. ‘An act of desperation.’

‘I see.’ Ross watched him carefully but Jim’s face was now back in neutral. ‘In that case, I won’t need to elaborate on how little I enjoyed it.’

‘I didn’t think you would.’ Jim shot back. ‘Trust me, it was purely for show.’

‘Good.’ Ross said.

‘Good.’ Jim replied.

They drank the bottle empty and then staggered back to the house, neither of them quite able to look at each other. The place was in darkness, both Dwight and Jud appearing to have called it a night. They went up the stairs together and to their separate rooms with a word.

In the attic, Ross discarded his clothes as he went without even lighting the lantern. He ripped the neck cloth off and threw everything else on the floor before falling into bed. He was exhausted and he wriggled down under the covers and settled down to sleep, trying to keep the thoughts from his mind, but even so the last thing that he remembered of the evening was not their daring escape or even what he’d seen, but the taste of Jim’s mouth and a secret hope that he might get to do it again.

*********

_The water was black and icy cold against his skin. It dragged him down and down and Ross flailed and tried to surface but even as he did hand reached up for him and caught him, pulling them with them even further into the black._

_He tried to scream but water filled his mouth and lungs, the burning pain excruciating. He opened his eyes and saw faces all around him, the skin sloughing away from their skulls and their eyes white jellied masses. They crowded in on him and he could hear them all, screaming and begging in languages he didn’t understand, demanding things of him that Ross knew he couldn’t possibly give. Through it all ran a stain of guilt and fear and his struggles became weaker and weaker as he slowly drowned._

Ross jolted awake, fighting against the hands on him and thrashing around. It took him a few moments to realise that he was not being pulled under the water but simply trapped in the bedsheets and that the hands on him were not those of the people he’d helped kill.

He came out of his trance like state and found himself staring into eyes turned silver by the moonlight, staring back at him and filled with worry. Jim had Ross by the wrists, holding him still, and his firm grip stilled Ross like nothing else ever had. He calmed, shaking and breathing hard from the panic that had filled him, his heart still pounding and all the while Jim watched him.

‘Are you all right?’ he asked, his voice sleep rough. Ross looked into his eyes, still not trusting himself to speak. He settled for nodding and Jim let him go, moving back a little.

It was then that Ross noticed that he was on the bed next to him. Not only that, but that Jim slept in the same condition he did, his bare skin painted the most beautiful shades of grey and shadow that highlighted every plane of his body.

The decision was made even before Ross had a chance to think about it.

He reached out blindly with both hands, his fingers tangling in soft curls as he caught Jim and pulled him in. Jim gave him no resistance and this time the kiss was brutal as all their mutual desperation and desire ignited and set them both alight.

Ross let Jim go, wrapping both arms around him and manhandling him over and onto his back, following so that Jim was underneath him. The contact between them and the slide of their skin against each other was too much, too intense, but Ross threw himself into it. He didn’t care anymore, didn’t want to think about how this might be the biggest mistake he would ever make. All he wanted was more and he kissed Jim again, licking at his mouth and feeling a flood of need as Jim opened his mouth to him and responded, tongue against tongue as they kissed and kissed again, their hands going everywhere they could reach.

He pulled back, kissing down the line of Jim’s neck and hearing Jim moan. It was deep and sounded as if it had been pulled from him. Ross tasted salt on his skin and moved back to his mouth, silencing him. He felt Jim’s hands on his back, his shoulders. There were little flashes of pain as he dug his nails in and Ross thrust down against him. Jim moved to meet him, the velvety slide of his cock against Ross’ stomach alerting to the fact that they were now both hard. He moved to the side, hand trailing down over soft skin and the line of hair that ran down and down until Ross could wrap his fingers around Jim’s cock. It was warm in his hand, solid and thick, and Ross tightened his grip just enough to elicit that wonderful sound again as Jim arched up into his hand.

‘Ross…’ It was said on a deep exhalation, and Ross leaned down enough to kiss him again. It was deep and wet and Jim shook under his hand, making helpless little noises that drove Ross mad. He quickened his strokes, the slip slide as Jim got aroused to the point of distraction making it even better.

When he moved back, Jim was staring up at him. Their eyes locked and Ross felt like he was falling all the way back down again, but this time there was no fear at all. He felt Jim shift and then all thought was knocked from his head as he felt Jim's own hand on him.

They watched each other, their rhythms slowing and becoming drawn out as they tested each other’s limits. Jim was skilled, his strokes gentle but firm, thumb slipping teasingly over the head of Ross’ cock and making him pant aloud in the quiet of the attic as he used the wetness gathered there to facilitate his movements. Ross retaliated and watched as Jim bit that lovely full bottom lip of his, his face helpless with pleasure. He matched Ross stroke for stroke and it was barely any time at all before all the arousal Ross felt spilled over and he groaned, burying his face in Jim’s neck as he came harder than he ever had before. Jim followed not a second later, his whole body jerking as he climaxed and warmth flooded Ross’ hand. They slowed and stilled, not daring to look at each other. Ross inhaled deeply, tasting the sweat on Jim’s skin. Underneath him, he could feel Jim’s chest heave as he battled for breath.

It was the sound of footsteps on the stairs that startled them both out of their post-coital state. Jim was up in a flash, melting into the shadows even as candlelight lit the attic and Jud came in. He was in his nightshirt, grey hair a mess and his face full of concern.

‘Ross?’ He peered at him. ‘What the bleedin’ hell is the matter?’

‘A dream.’ Ross was thankful that he would be able to use that as an excuse. ‘Just a bad dream.’ He ran his clean hand through his hair. ‘I’m all right, Jud. Go back to sleep.’

‘Are you sure?’ Jud asked, moving forward. Ross threw up his clean hand, hiding the soiled one under the sheet.

‘Quite sure.’ He couldn’t see where Jim was hiding. ‘I will be fine.’

‘If you say so.’ Jud yawned. ‘Good night.’ He turned and started plodding back towards the door and Ross watched the light fade and disappear down the stairs.

There was a movement in the dark and then Jim chuckled.

‘Christ, that was close.’ He came out and Ross took him in, letting himself look all he wanted.

‘You should probably go to back to bed.’ he said. ‘Before I decide that it was not enough.’

‘I intend to.’ Jim’s smile was crooked. ‘Before you think me a man of easy virtue.’

‘Too late for that.’ Ross retorted and this time the smile brought the dimples with it.

Jim walked off and Ross watched him go, unable to stop smiling. He waited until he heard Joshua’s door close and then lay back down again. This time sleep took him easily and his dreams were filled only with sunlight on salt water and Jim's eyes.


	18. Aftermath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Repercussions from things past...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> T/W: Mentions of miscarriage.

The sound of scratching woke Ross up and he opened his eyes. The attic was filled with sunlight, motes drifting lazily through the air and Ross watched them for a few moments. He tried stretching and then immediately regretted it as the wound in his side pulled and pain shot through him. He groaned and then felt a foot nudge him in the thigh.

‘You need to stay still.’ Jim’s voice broke through the fog of near sleep. ‘Dwight’s gone to the apothecary to get you something. He’s not very happy at all that we jumped out a window last night.’

Ross made an effort and focused and realised that Jim was on the bed with him. He opened his eyes properly and saw him sitting at the end in the same place Demelza had been the day before. He was dressed like a sailor, navy trousers and a loose white shirt that hung open at the neck, his blond curls tied back and his bare feet crossed. In his lap was a one of Joshua’s wooden drawing boards and the scratching noise was coming from deft movements of his hand as he drew charcoal across parchment.

‘What are you doing?’ he asked and Jim’s mouth quirked but he didn’t look up from his work.

‘Drawing.’ he replied. ‘Another reason you should keep still.’

‘Why are you drawing me?’ Ross struggled to sit up and then fell back on the pillows, gasping at the pain. ‘Fuck this blasted injury.’

‘Dwight said you pulled the stitches loose.’ Jim explained, ignoring Ross' question. ‘He’s worried about infection setting in.’ There was a flash of dimples. ‘I told him you’re far too venomous yourself for any infection to take hold.’

Ross snorted and lay still. He hated to admit it, but Jim looked extremely attractive in his plain clothes. Ross could all too easily imagine him aboard the Hispaniola, tanned and windswept, maybe climbing the rigging or something else suitably nautical. He watched Jim draw and then spoke.

‘Did you draw my father?’ He watched for a change of expression. To his chagrin, Jim didn’t react. Instead he simply kept going, stopping once to smudge the line he’d just drawn.

‘A few times.’ he answered. ‘He had fine features.’ The corners of his mouth quirked again. ‘Although, I find that I like yours far better.’

That stopped Ross in his tracks, leaving him completely lost for words. He lay there and kept quiet, not sure how to proceed. Thankfully, Jim decided that he was done and then looked up at him. Dressed like this and with the sun in his eyes, he looked very young.

‘Last night…’ he started.

‘Was last night.’ Ross cut him off, not ready to talk about what had transpired between them. ‘Pick another subject for discussion.’

‘Very well.’ Jim met his eyes. ‘How did you get them?’ He nodded at Ross’ tattoos. ‘I have never seen their like before and I have been pretty much all over the globe.’

'I got them in North Africa.’ Ross replied. ‘They have personal meaning to me.’ He decided to turn the question around. ‘You don’t carry any which I find surprising considering your occupation.’

‘Silver told me that one of the easiest ways to be identified is through the markings we carry.’ Jim shifted in place. ‘It’s why I don’t have them.’

‘And the drawing?’ Ross couldn’t help his curiosity, especially now that they seemed to have reached a point where he could find out more about the man whose fate now seemed irretrievably tied into his.

‘I was taught by our surgeon.’ Jim smiled. ‘He was a Catalan we took off a ship along the South American coast. He was being held in their brig and decided to throw his lot in with us. He became my teacher of sorts. He taught me a great many things.’

‘Like what?’ Ross asked and Jim looked at him.

‘To read and write in Latin and Greek. Mathematics and naturalism. He was a man of not inconsiderable intellect and he encouraged me to expand my knowledge whenever I could.’ His smile turned wistful.

‘Was he hanged with the others?’ Ross manged to get into a sitting position without jolting himself too much.

‘No.’ Jim sighed. ‘He died a year before from cirrhosis. He was fond of drink and whores and spent whatever prizes he gained on those, but he was kind to me.’ He handed the piece of parchment over and Ross took it. He was amazed at the detail in the portrait Jim had done of him.

‘You have a fine hand.’ He studied the picture. ‘Maybe you should have become an artist instead.’

‘That pays even less than acting.’ Jim chuckled. ‘And I only draw for my own pleasure.’

‘Is that what I am now?’ Ross couldn’t resist asking. ‘Pleasure rather than business?’

‘I thought you didn’t want to discuss last night.’ Jim shot back.

‘I don’t.’ Ross met his eyes. ‘But I also do not want any complications.’

‘I am a very uncomplicated man, Ross.’ Jim smiled. ‘I am under no illusions as to what stands between us and what attachments you already have. I told you I don’t fuck for love and that is true. But equally, I will take pleasure where it’s given.’ His eyes had a strange gleam in them. ‘Nothing more and nothing less than that.’

‘Good.’ Ross glanced away, feeling a little uncomfortable with the disappointment he felt at Jim’s declarations. ‘I would hate for you to get the wrong idea.’

‘I won’t.’ Jim replied and it was a touch sharp. ‘I am well aware of where your affections lie.’ He got up and started for the door. Ross watched him go and then turned back to the picture. Jim had drawn him sleeping, his hair in his eyes and his face peaceful in repose. He studied the lines and felt a twinge at the harsh way he’d spoken.

‘Jim.’ He sounded hesitant to his own ears and Jim stopped in his tracks but didn’t turn around. ‘I don’t regret what we did.’ He looked at him and saw then tension ease from Jim’s shoulders. He half turned his head and Ross saw a glimpse of his profile, now more familiar to him than he would have ever confessed.

‘Neither do I, Ross.’ he replied, his voice low. Then he turned back and left the room.

Ross sighed and rearranged himself to be as comfortable as he could. He sat and thought about their night and smile crossed his face. It had more fun than he’d had in ages, and the final events had left him in a state of sleep that had brought not a single nightmare, a rarity these days. He thought about Grace’s warning and then looked towards the door again, secretly willing Jim to come back.

**********

Jim got to the kitchen. Jus was peeling potatoes for lunch and he glanced up as he came in.

‘I trust the patient is much the same?’ he asked and Jim nodded. He came to sit down, tucking his feet under him.

‘He’s in something of a mood.’ he replied and Jud chuckled.

‘How can you tell?’ His grey eyes twinkled. ‘It’s Ross.’ He studied Jim’s face and then shook his head. ‘Don’t do it, lad.’

‘Do what?’ Jim had a fingernail in his mouth and spoke around it.

‘Give ‘im your heart.’ Jud fixed him with a stern look. ‘He’ll only break it.’

‘How…?’ Jim stared at him and Jud smiled ruefully.

‘I might be a crotchety old bugger, but I was young once.’ he said. ‘I can recognise the signs.’

Jim sighed and looked to the window.

‘He’s so closed.’ He frowned. ‘I’ve never met anyone quite like that before.’ He laughed. ‘People think pirate ships are full of criminals and murderers and that’s true, but we never hide what we are to each other. We don’t need to. On land, things are a sight more complicated.’

‘And you’ve tied yourself into the worst of them.’ Jud added. ‘I don’t know ‘alf of what he ‘as planned.’

‘I do.’ Jim leaned back in the chair. ‘I think that’s part of why I do trust him. He’s as mad as any I have encountered, but it’s the kind of madness I know well.’ He looked at Jud across the table. ‘Can I ask what you will do when we go?’

Jud shrugged.

‘I honestly don’t know.’ he said. ‘Prudie will be coming back at some stage, so I suppose I’ll just keep house like I always have.’

The sound of the front door made them both look up and a few seconds later Dwight came in. he was carrying a paper wrapped parcel and carrying a pair brown glass bottles, all of which he laid on the table and went to the sink to fill the kettle.

‘What did you get?’ Jim asked and Dwight threw him a grin over his shoulder.

‘I have made some experimental study of certain compounds.’ he replied. ‘I have ethyl alcohol, sodium iodide and iodine and shall be making a tincture of iodine at slightly higher strength to apply to the wound. I have noted good results in its use which I discovered quite by accident, I’ll have you know.’

‘It will heal him faster?’ Jud got up and took the kettle from Dwight and went with it to the stove.

‘It will.’ Dwight assured him. ‘Have you scales?’

Jud nodded at a cupboard and Dwight went to retrieve them. He came back to the table with the scales and several saucers.

‘Jim?’ he looked at him. ‘Could you please go upstairs to my bags and bring me the notebook inside. It has my recipes in it.’

Jim jumped up from his chair and headed upstairs immediately. He got to the room Dwight was using and found the bag, digging through Dwight’s assorted belongings. The notebook was leather bound and tied with twine and he took it and went back downstairs.

When he got to the kitchen he found Dwight emptying out white powder into a saucer. Another saucer already held granules of a metallic grey powder and he also had a pudding dish at the ready. He nodded at Jud and Jud bought the kettle over and poured water into the basin under Dwight’s direction, stopping when Dwight nodded to him again.  
Jim came over and watched in fascination.

‘What exactly are you doing?’ he asked and Dwight used the silver spoon in his hand to indicate the chemicals.

‘The white is sodium iodide and the grey pure iodine.’ he replied. ‘I shall mix them in a solution of water and alcohol at a strength of approximately six percent to form a tincture to flush the wound and then redress it. With any luck, Ross should be up and about in a few days. That means no more jumping out of windows or questionable activities for a while.’

‘How long exactly?’ Jim frowned. ‘We have a schedule to keep.’

‘At least three days.’ Dwight sounded stern. ‘He needs time to heal properly.’

Jim huffed and folded his arms.

‘I suppose I can busy myself with getting the ship prepared.’ he said. ‘We’ll need supplies and to do any repairs that might need doing.’

Dwight nodded as he scanned his notebook, laying it open on the table. Jim saw a series of numbers and symbols written that meant nothing to him. Dwight took the grey granules and added them to the water, stirring until it turned a deep purple colour, then tipped the white powder in as well and did the same until it was completely dissolved. He waited for the liquid to settle and then picked up the brown bottle and unstoppered it. A strong smell filled the air and he carefully poured in a quantity and stirred for the final time.

‘Now we leave it to cool.’ he explained. ‘Jud, could you spare a sheet? We’ll need to boil some strips of linen for bandages.’

‘Aye.’ Jud left his side, where he’d been observing the proceedings and trotted out the kitchen.

‘This is all very interesting.’ Jim peered into the basin.

‘The wonders of chemistry, my friend.’ Dwight grinned.

**********

South of the river, another man sat and drank as he listlessly looked out the window. He heard footsteps coming down the stairs, and braced himself as the man in black came into the room.

The doctor’s face was grave and Francis felt a chill go through him.

‘How is she?’ he asked.

‘As well as can be expected.’ the doctor replied. ‘To experience this kind of event at this stage of pregnancy is extremely difficult. She will recover physically in a matter of weeks but she may not recover her mental faculties for some time.’ He sighed and took off his glasses, polishing them on the handkerchief he took from his pocket. ‘She needs rest and complete quiet. I have given her laudanum and she should continue to take this. Other than that, I can only recommend a diet of broth to build up her strength and for there to be no relations until the recovery is complete.’ He replaced his glasses and gave Francis a stern look. ‘Please be sure to comply with my instructions Mr Poldark. It will go far worse for her if you do not.’

Francis did not miss the tone in his voice. He knew the paper thin story he’d given about Elizabeth tripping on her gown and falling down the stairs had sounded false and her bruises had been livid. The night of the rout, after the incident in the drawing room, he’d summoned the doctor when she had started screaming, the blood coming from between her legs staining the carpet. The floorboards were now covered in one pressed into use from upstairs, but that sight had haunted him.

The doctor had arrived, but it had been two late ad several hours later Elizabeth had delivered their child. It had been dead, a wizened red skinned little thing, already bearing the features of the infant it would have become. The doctor had taken it away, wrapped in a sheet, and they had not spoken of it since.

‘I will.’ he replied. ‘She shall have the best of care.’

‘A little too late for that.’ The doctor admonished. ‘Good day, sir.’

He left and Francis reached for the decanter, refilling his glass. He drank and then turned his face to the ceiling.

He got up and made his way to the staircase. Every step was a trial, his feet feeling like they were weighed down with lead. When he reached the landing he had a moment of panic, desperately wanting to go back down and lose himself in the decanter, but he forced himself to take the steps that lead him to Elizabeth’s bedroom.

He entered without knocking and the maid inside got up from her seat, inclining her head and scurrying away. Francis waited until the door was closed and then drew close to the side of the bed. He took the chair the maid had been sitting in, looking at his wife.

Elizabeth was as pale as alabaster, her dark eyes unreadable. She was looking towards the window and showed no sign of having even noticed his arrival. Francis regarded her. She was in rose pink, a bedjacket of delicate lace covering her lovely shoulders. The bruises he’d left shadowed her cheek and jaw, now fading to green. The finger marks on her wrists were also still visible and Francis felt sick at the sight of them.

‘Dearest?’ he leaned forward to take her hand. Elizabeth did not look at him, but the second he was in reach she pulled her hand away.

‘Where is Geoffrey?’ she asked, her voice completely without emotion. ‘What did you do with him?’

‘Geoffrey?’ Francis frowned and now Elizabeth turned her head. There was a look of pure loathing in her brown eyes and Francis felt a tremor of fear go through him.

‘Geoffrey.’ she repeated. ‘Our son, Francis. What did you do with him?’

‘I…’ Francis found his voice failing. ‘The doctor dealt with it.’

‘He was so tiny.’ Elizabeth resumed her observation of the window. ‘So defenceless.’ Her voice did not waver. ‘I hate you for that, for killing our son.’

‘Elizabeth, please.’ Francis stammered. ‘I did not meant to.’

‘I care not for what you meant.’ Elizabeth replied. ‘I despise the very sight of you. Get out.’

‘You cannot just order me to leave.’ Francis insisted. ‘I am your husband.’

He started to lean forward and as quick as a flash, Elizabeth grabbed the cut glass tumbler on her bedside table and hurled it at the wall opposite the bed, where it exploded in a spray of shards.

‘I said, get out!’ she screamed at him, the fury in her voice and on her face completely terrifying him.

Francis scrambled to his feet, stumbling back towards the door. He threw himself through it, slamming it closed behind him as he heard her start to wail. The sound was bereft, appalling in the loss and pain and anger it conveyed. He turned and saw two of the maids standing there watching him, looks of horror on their faces.

Francis stormed past them, nearly running downstairs and locking himself in the study where he immediately proceeded to get as drunk as humanly possible.

**********

The boil wash was concluded, the linen strips dried in front of the fire and the tincture settled. A new seaming needle had been procured and some waxed silk thread produced from Dwight’s purchases.

‘All right.’ Dwight was grinning. ‘Who’s going to come hold him down?’

‘Christ.’ Jim looked at Jud. ‘I suppose I better do that.’

‘Good.’ Dwight looked at Jud. ‘You can help me with the surgery.’

They proceeded up the stairs with a distinct air of going to their doom. Dwight had told them that he would need to take out the old stitches and out in new ones and nobody wanted to be the one to inform Ross of that fact.

They got to the attic and both Dwight and Jud stopped and looked at Jim expectantly.

‘Well, go on then lad.’ Jud urged. ‘He’s less likely to try and take you on than he is us.’

‘Cowards.’ Jim muttered and walked up ahead of them. ‘I told you we should have bought the brandy.’

‘Not this time.’ Dwight replied. ‘Which is why you may have to restrain him.’

‘Wonderful.’ Jim snorted. ‘Have you seen him hit someone? It’s like seeing a person being hit by a boom in the head.’

They got to the door and peered in. From their vantage point, they could see the Ross was still in bed.

‘Well, at least he’s listened to my advice.’ Dwight hissed.

‘Oh good.’ Jim muttered. ‘Now let’s just hope he doesn’t kill us or trying to repair him.’

‘Go on, lad.’ Jud gave him a shove. ‘You first.’

‘Bugger.’ Jim steeled himself and walked in and Ross’ head came up. He saw Dwight and Jud behind him and narrowed his dark eyes at them.

‘No.’ It came out flat.

‘Yes.’ Dwight contradicted. ‘We need to do this.’

‘Do what?’ Ross sounded extremely suspicious.

‘Nothing much.’ Dwight replied. ‘Just take out the old stitches, clean out the wound and put in some new ones.’ He said this all with a brittle smile, clearly trying to out Ross at ease and failing miserably.

‘Fuck.’ Ross heaved a pained sigh. ‘Just bloody get on with it.’ He lay back with a martyred air. ‘Give me the brandy.’

‘There is no brandy.’ Jim explained and the look he got was enough to make him spontaneously combust in its intensity.

‘No bloody brandy?’ Ross sounded outraged. ‘Then you’re not bloody doing it.’

Dwight, Jim and Jud exchanged looks. This was going to call for desperate measures.

In the end, it took both Jim and Jud to hold him down. Dwight cut away the old stitches with scissors and then sluiced it out with the tincture while Ross roared and swore and cursed all three of them to hell and back. His language reached new levels of creativity when Dwight sewed him back up and sopped the injury with more tincture before drying it off and bandaging him back up again.

Jim had to admit that this time, the job was much better. The silk thread made for easier stitching and Dwight took his time, making everything much neater. The tincture eliminated the collected fluid and the attic now smelt cleaner than it had before.

‘Three days in bed.’ Dwight announced, clearing everything up after despatching Jud to make some tea. ‘No sudden movements and no getting up unless you have to piss.’ He grinned at Jim as he collected everything together and then left them alone, whistling merrily as he clattered downstairs.

Jim looked at Ross. He was pale, but recovering as he lay against the pillows and breathed hard against the pain.

‘Are you all right?’ he asked and got a brusque nod.

‘I’ll live.’ Ross said the words through gritted teeth. ‘But I am going to make all of you pay for that.’

‘It’s not my fault you have little in the way of a sense of self-preservation.’ Jim protested. ‘This is all your own doing.’ He found himself grinning at Ross’ obvious irritation. ‘But in compensation, I shall do what I can to make you comfortable.’ He gave Ross a courtly bow. ‘I am at your service.’

‘Bastard.’ Ross was chuckling in spite of himself. ‘You can entertain me. Being stuck in bed for three days will near kill me from boredom.’

‘But of course.’ Jim smiled. ‘How would you like me to do that? I could recite some of the bard’s work? Or maybe a classic monologue?’

‘No.’ Ross looked at him, his hazel eyes gleaming. ‘I want to hear about the Hispaniola.’

‘Oh?’ Jim raised an eyebrow at him. ‘Just what do you want to know?’

‘Everything.’ Ross stated. ‘Start from the discovery of the map in the book and go from there.’

Jim met his eyes, taking his measure. He inhaled deeply ad then nodded.

‘Very well.’ He moved to the other side of the couch, got on and made himself comfortable. ‘Let me tell you about a man called Billy Bones.’

**********

The lighter pulled in alongside the dock and Demelza, Mary and two men got out, both carrying bundles wrapped in cloth that contained their belongings. The first was tall and thin, with calloused hands and stringy ash blond hair in a pigtail. He was dressed in striped petticoat trouser and navy jacket, his flat shoes almost worn through. His companion was a young man, his face still showing the smoothness of adolescence. He was dressed in thicker clothing, his pea coat relatively new, and he wore a sailor’s cap.

‘The house is up there.’ Demelza pointed to where the façade of Nampara was just visible behind the dock buildings. ‘Jim’s probably with Ross and Dwight.’

‘And the ship?’ the older man asked.

‘She’s at India, Ben.’ Mary replied. ‘Jim said to go straight aboard if you wish.’

‘I think that will be best.’ Ben nodded. He looked at the young man. ‘Come on, lad. We’ve got work to do.’

They parted ways and Mary and Demelza waved them off. Mary looked at her daughter.

‘I am going to the theatre to get our things, my sweet.’ She kissed the top of Demelza’s head. ‘You’ll go to the house?’

‘Yeah.’ Demelza grinned. ‘I can get Jud to feed me. He’s a good cook.’

‘All right.’ Mary started off down the dock. ‘I’ll be back tomorrow, pet.’

Demelza went in the opposite direction. She skipped across the road and through the gates an in the door, humming as she went. She didn’t bother announcing herself as she hopped up the stairs on one foot, alternating as she went.

She got to the top of the stairs and stood still for a moment, tilting her head as she listened. Her eyes bled to black and she giggled and then reached out to take the spectral hand that was offered to her.

 _I am glad you came back_. Grace whispered to her. _I have something to show you. You must be silent as the grave though for they will not take kindly to being observed, I think_.  
Demelza nodded and they walked hand in hand up the attic stairs. The door was ajar and they peered inside.

The sound of voices reached their ears and to her surprise, Demelza could heard the way the conversation was flowing with ease. She smiled as she looked at the sliver of couch that was visible, just glimpsing the scene inside.

Ross was leaning back on his pillows and Jim was next to him, lying down and leaning on one elbow. They were talking and laughing together, like they had known each other for years.

 _See?_ Grace smiled. _They just needed a little push_. Her dark eyes were sparkling when she looked down at Demelza. _Now come. I will teach you a new spread._

Demelza nodded eagerly ad then left the attic, going downstairs and into Grace’s room, the door swinging shut by itself behind them.


	19. Collision Course

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well, it was kind of inevitable...

Ross sat and kicked the sheet, as morose as a wet hen. He hated inactivity, had always been one of those children who’d never been able to keep still. It was one of the reasons his ear and Jud’s hand had been so well acquainted when he’d been a boy. He’d constantly been getting into trouble and was feeling the same urge to break something now that he was confined to bed. 

‘You look positively belligerent.’ Dwight observed, rewrapping the bandage around Ross’ ribs. ‘Care to share just what has caused that?’ He grinned and Ross scowled at him. One day had been barely manageable. It was now the second day and Ross was bordering on impossible. He grunted a reply and Dwight tilted his head.

‘I apologise.’ His blue eyes were twinkling. ‘I do not speak whatever language that is that you seem to have just made up.’

‘Go to the devil.’ Ross muttered and folded his arms, now securely strapped into his bandages. ‘This bloody stings.’

‘It’s supposed to and when the rot doesn’t set in and make you even more noxious than you are already, you shall thank me.’ Dwight gathered up the rest of his things. ‘Now I have left instructions with Jim. He shall see to the change tonight and then you will be ready to start getting up but only limited activity at first.’ He sighed at Ross’ sour expression. ‘I must go. There is the charcoal and sulphur to grind and I have already lost a day doctoring you.’

‘Nobody asked you to.’ Ross muttered. ‘I was fine.’ 

‘Well, now you’re better.’ Dwight added. ‘And a quiet night will do you good. Mary came for Demelza an hour ago to take her to the ship so you shall not be forced to play endless hands of whist against your will as you were last night.’

‘And Jud?” Ross asked. ‘Has he gone yet?’

‘He has.’ Dwight confirmed. ‘The letter from Prudie said to come at once so he wanted to get on as soon as possible.’

‘And you told him to extend my condolences?’ Ross asked and Dwight nodded. The letter from Prudie had contained news that her mother had died the previous night, her condition finally taking her, and he had gone for the funeral. It was a day’s travel to Brighton and another day back, which meant he would be gone until the day after. 

That meant that the only people occupying the house that night would be he and Jim. It was an unnerving thought, but not all unwelcome. 

Ross had had a lot of time to think, sitting in bed while Demelza had made him play cards and chattered about her friends on the wharf the previous evening, and there was one thing that kept coming back to him. It had distracted him to the point of near lunacy, if he was being honest with himself. Their extended conversation the morning before he’d been sent to bed had been repeated the day before. That time though there had been no drawing, just talking. Jim had an engaging manner when it came to conversation, his natural ability making the stories he told come to life right in front of Ross. He was also very funny and Ross had found himself chuckling until his side ached far more than it should. He hadn’t laughed like that since he’d been a child and Grace had still been with him. 

‘Jud has left some pies on the table and Jim said that he would make the rest of dinner when he got in.’ Dwight said. ‘He should be back fairly soon. It’s starting to get dark outside.’

Ross nodded and waved him off.

‘I shall be quite alright by myself until he gets back.’ He leaned back on his pillows. ‘I once got bitten in the thigh by a lion and had to crawl to the nearest village for help. It took me three days. This is not going to kill me.’

‘So you keep saying.’ Dwight laughed and left the attic, stomping downstairs with his usual lack of delicacy and Ross sat and looked towards the window. He smiled as the smell drifted in and looked at Grace, now sitting on the bed at the other side. 

‘You father had this bought back from India for me.’ she said, smoothing one hand over the coverlet. ‘I always loved this bed. We would lie in it for hours.’

Ross looked at her in profile, admiring just how lovely she was. He was grateful for that one thing, knowing she had died in her prime and would forever be beautiful. He also noticed that she had a knowing little smile on her face. 

‘You needn’t look so smug.’ he said. ‘You know everything already. Even when you were alive nothing happened in this house that you didn’t know about so now that you’re dead I imagine that hasn’t changed.’

‘No, it hasn’t.’ Grace looked at him. Her dress today was a deep rich claret. ‘And dare I say you look happier for it.’

‘He’s a pirate, Mother.’ Ross pointed out. ‘He lies and kills people and has relations with men and makes me jump out of two storey windows.’

‘I know.’ Grace smiled. ‘He’s perfect for you.’

********

Jim came up from the East India Docks. Gunpowder had his head down, ears level as he plodded along and Jim smiled and ran a hand down his mount’s neck. The stallion’s coat was wet with the rain that had started falling almost as soon as they had left and he and Jim were now both soaked. The rain was dripping off the rim of his hat in a steady stream and running down his neck under his greatcoat and Jim was feeling cold and in dire need of a fire.

He glanced up and saw a familiar figure riding down the street. The man was hunched over but Jim recognised Dwight and smiled. He pulled Gunpowder to stop and Dwight looked up from under his own hat and raised a hand in greeting. 

‘I’m off to the mill.’ he announced. ‘I’ll no doubt be a day or two. Is everyone installed aboard ship.’

‘Silver and Billy are on their way tonight.’ Jim replied. ‘Ben and Israel are seeing to a few things. She’s in a fine state of repair, that I’ll give them. They took good care of her while she was in unfriendly hands. I have also made a list of things we’ll need, and then we can start looking at bringing hands aboard. They are spending the night there and I’ll rejoin them in the morning.’ He grinned. ‘I told them I had an invalid to care for.’

‘I fear you’ll find him much recovered.’ Dwight laughed. ‘His mood is positively irascible.’

‘Wonderful.’ Jim sighed. ‘I might have to hide in the cellar.’

‘Or you could try and cheer him up.’ There was the smallest hint of mischief in Dwight’s tone. Jim gave him a stern look. 

‘I hope you’re not suggesting that I would be doing anything untoward with your patient, Dwight.’ he said and Dwight gave him a look of wide-eyed innocence. 

‘I would never suggest such a thing.’ he replied. ‘I distinctly said no sudden movements.’ With that he clapped his gelding in the sides with his heels and trotted off with a loud laugh and a wave of his hand. 

Jim chuckled and shook his head at him, before turning Gunpowder back around and nudging him back into a walk. 

‘A warm stable and dinner for you, I think.’ he said as they came into the street that housed Nampara. He rode into the yard and dismounted, taking Gunpowder to the stable and untacking him, rubbing him down and settling him in for the night. Bathsheba nickered as he worked and Gunpowder moved to the side of his stall to touch muzzles with her. Jim grinned. Dwight had proclaimed it a grand romance. 

He fed them both, hauling hay from the side of the stable and made sure they had fresh water and then went inside. The kitchen fire was banked and he rekindled it before putting a pot and the kettle on to boil, filling them from the kitchen pump. One of the things Silver had instilled in him since childhood was the value in knowing how to boil one’s own potatoes, although the meat pies Jud had made were very welcome and a little beyond his range of skills. 

The fire was soon blazing away and the kettle was emitting steam and Jim took the time to discard his waistcoat and boots, padding around barefoot and in his shirtsleeves as he hung up his things to dry. He looked around for Black Dog but found her absent and wondered if she was upstairs with Ross. 

Once the water in the pot was bubbling vigorously, he chucked the potatoes in and put the pies in the oven to warm before he went down to the cellar, wading through the almost knee deep water to the far side to get a fresh bottle of brandy. His feet made wet marks back up the stairs and when he came into the kitchen he started when he saw a tall figure in the doorway, no doubt lured by the smell of food. 

‘You’re supposed to be in bed.’ he chided and Ross frowned. He was only in his drawers and had a blanket draped around his shoulders. 

‘I am hungry.’ He looked hopefully at the stove. ‘You’re making dinner?’

‘Yes.’ Jim placed the brandy on the table. ‘I was going to bring it up.’

‘I don’t need to eat in bed like an invalid.’ Ross snorted and padded to the table, wincing as he sat down rather gingerly. Jim handed him a pair of glasses and Ross uncorked the brandy and poured it. 

‘How is it feeling?’ Jim asked and Ross shrugged. 

‘Better.’ he admitted. ‘Dwight seems pleased with my progress.’

‘Good.’ Jim went back to his domestic tasks, laying out a plate for each of them and the butter. He cast around but couldn't see what he was looking for. ‘Where the hell is the silverware?’

‘Bottom drawer of the dresser.’ Ross replied. ‘Jud thinks it’s less likely to be discovered by burglars there.’

Jim snorted with laughter as he got the knives and forks out. 

‘He’s quite a character.’ he said as he sat down across from Ross and Ross smiled. 

‘He was a very interesting nursemaid.’ he replied. ‘That was in the days before he’d met Prudie.’

‘I can’t imagine what it must have been like.’ Jim looked around him. ‘Growing up in this house.’

‘It was lonely.’ Ross drank. ‘I only had my mother and Jud. I didn’t really play with anyone else.’

‘And no family besides Francis?’ Jim asked and Ross’ face got an odd look on it. 

‘Not exactly.’ he replied. 

‘What do you mean, not exactly?’ Jim asked, now intrigued. 

‘Charles had two children.’ Ross studied the bottom of his glass. ‘I have another cousin who is two years younger than we are. Her name is Verity.’

‘Really?’ Jim didn’t hide his surprise. ‘You’ve never mentioned her.’

‘She was a disappointment.’ Ross gave him a wry smile. ‘Verity met an unsuitable man and eloped with him when she was sixteen. Her father nearly had an apoplexy.’

‘Christ.’ Jim was impressed. ‘When was that?’

‘Seven years ago.’ Ross replied. ‘She left with him aboard his ship and we have not seen her since. Andrew is a merchant mariner and I presume they are sailing the seven seas somewhere. Either that or she's dead.’

‘That is quite an incredible story.’ Jim got up and went to the oven. ‘How did they meet?’

‘Well, that’s the funny thing.’ Ross explained. ‘Andrew Blamey was actually one of the captains contracted to my father’s company. He was thirty at the time and recently widowed so you can imagine the scandal.’

‘I think I like the sound of your cousin.’ Jim laughed as he bought the pies to the table and then drained the potatoes and dumped them in a bowl and did the same with them. ‘She seems to be possessed of the Poldark spirit if she defied her father and ran off to sea.’

‘More so than me and Francis put together.’ Ross chuckled. ‘She should be the one running this sorry campaign. She is more intelligent than either of us.’

Jim studied him as he sat back down. He could hear the affection in Ross’ voice. 

‘You love her a great deal.’ he said.

‘I do.’ Ross confessed. ‘She was the only one in my family who treated me like I was worth something besides my mother.’

‘I find that hard to believe.’ Jim replied, handing across the butter for the potatoes. ‘You were Joshua’s only child and his son no less.’

‘Not really.’ Ross sighed. ‘When he had my mother committed, he saw everything of her in me whenever he looked at me. It wasn’t long after he married Elizabeth’s mother that he sent me off to be a cadet.’

‘And you resented him for that?’ Jim asked, treading carefully. This was the most honest conversation he’d had with Ross and he was curious to hear more. 

‘I hated him for that.’ Ross’ tone grew fierce. ‘I still hate the bastard, even though he’s dead. He took away the person who was my entire world and replaced her with a woman who despised me.’ He huffed and cut into his pie. ‘She made sure I knew just how unwelcome I was in my own home.’ He looked up and saw Jim staring at him. ‘What?'

‘Nothing.’ Jim couldn’t help the feeling inside him, a protectiveness that took him quite by surprise. He’d never ever thought he’d see a side of Ross that hinted at anything remotely resembling vulnerability. 

Ross obviously realised what he’d said and his manner changed immediately. He looked down, and the mood broke. 

‘It was nothing.’ He was brusque. ‘Not worth mentioning.’ He started eating, but Jim could see it was mechanical. He desperately wanted to continue to get Ross to talk to him and wracked his brain for an idea. 

‘When I left home, I thought that going to sea was the greatest adventure I could go on.’ He toyed with his own food. ‘But when I grew older I started to understand that home meant a lot more than I thought it had.’ He chanced a look and saw Ross had his head down. Even so, he wasn’t as closed off as he’d always been and Jim continued. ‘When my father died, I was too young to understand that it’s important to know where you come from.’

That made Ross huff.

‘I know where I come from.’ he replied. ‘A mother who everyone believed mad and a father that locked her away like some kind of monster and pretended that I didn’t exist rather than confront his actions.’ The anger was back again, simmering just under the surface as it always seemed to. 

‘She wasn’t though, was she?’ Jim asked and now Ross looked at him, dark eyes curious. 

‘No.’ He sounded adamant. ‘Grace was a lot of things, but not mad. Not even close to it.’ 

He carried on eating and Jim chewed on his lip, torn between wanting to tell Ross about Demelza and not being sure that he should. Ross was just starting to trust him and finding out that Demelza had declared Grace to be in the house might be a step too far. 

He settled for holding his tongue and the rest of the meal progressed in silence. Once they were finished, Ross thanked him gruffly and retreated back up the stairs. Jim cleaned up the kitchen, long instilled habits he’d learned at his parent’s elbows being entrenched by Silver when they were on the Hispaniola. 

He left the kitchen and went to the hall. There was one room in the house he hadn’t been back to since the last time he’d visited Joshua and he walked to the door and tried the handle. As he’d thought, it was locked. That didn’t deter him and Jim went back to the kitchen for a knife and deftly jimmied the door open.

Joshua’s library was tiny, a little box of a room. Unlike the attic, it held volumes that did not relate to his travels but it was a room that Jim had loved the instant he’d stepped inside. Joshua had been generous with it too, allowing him to take whatever he’d wanted to borrow and had frequently exhorted Jim to keep the books he’d lost himself in. This night, however, he was not after books but rather something else. The chess board was still on the small table. The ivory and ebony pieces were in their leather case and Jim picked both up, dusting them off before he tucked the board under one arm and carried them upstairs.

He got to the attic and hesitated before going in. He looked through the doorway and saw Ross was back on the bed. Black Dog was next to him, her head resting in his lap as Ross stroked her satin head and ears. He looked sad, his mouth turned down at the corners and it made Jim’s heart ache a little. 

He breathed in deeply and walked inside, shutting the attic door behind him. 

*********

Dwight hummed as he wandered the mill. He had set the charcoal to grind and he busied himself with collecting it and scooping it into the hessian sacks he had for that purpose. It was quiet, the only light his lantern he had bought with to give himself just enough illumination to work by but not enough to draw any attention. 

He had the sulphur to do afterwards, but that was a smelly job and he did not want to spend the night inside with the noxious fumes permeating everything. The charcoal had been much more to his liking and it was soothing manual labour that left his brain to think on things. 

He dusted his hands off on the leather apron he wore, already filthy from the dust and sweaty from the work. The very air was quiet, only the patter of the persistent rain falling on and through the roof in places breaking the silence. Dwight had chosen this place for its isolation, the complete lack of human habitation within hearing distance making it perfect for his experiments. Up in the loft there was even a small room untouched by the damp and cold and there he had a pallet to sleep on. He had stopped and bought some food along the way and would go up in a couple of hours, have a small supper and then get some well-earned sleep. 

He was about to load in the next pile of boughs when a noise caught his attention. It was barely audible, but Dwight had lived only a step ahead of the creditors most of his life and had also suffered at the hands of some angry husbands so he had learned to be on his guard. He froze and peered into the shadows. 

‘Who’s there?’ he asked and a lovely warm laugh filled the space between him and the person he could now just make out standing in the shadows. 

‘These are most unpleasant surroundings, my little chemist.’ Caroline’s voice was the last one he’d expected and Dwight almost dropped the wood he was holding in surprise.

‘Caroline?’ he frowned. ‘What the devil are you doing here?’

‘You are surprisingly easy to follow, Dwight.’ she replied. ‘You really should be more careful.’

‘Christ.’ Dwight was dumbfounded. ‘Are you here alone?’

‘I am.’ Caroline moved into the pool of light and he saw she was in a riding habit, a thick cloak thrown over her shoulders. ‘I am not afraid of the dark.’

‘But this is hardly a safe road.’ Dwight protested, appalled. ‘You put yourself in great danger doing this.’

‘No.’ Caroline smiled. ‘I have a pistol and I am an excellent shot, even in the dark.’ She came towards him and now he could see that she had a basket in her hands. ‘And I am a very dangerous woman, Dwight. I would not hesitate to kill any man that threatened me.’ 

‘Bloody hell.’ Dwight was lost for words. Then his nose caught the smell of something. ‘What exactly do you have in that basket?’

‘Roast chicken, fresh rolls and two bottles of good dark ale.’ Caroline replied, her blue eyes sparkling in the light of the lantern. ‘I was hoping you’d invite me in for dinner.’

‘Most certainly.’ Dwight could scarcely believe what he was hearing. ‘Although Ross is not going to like the fact that you managed to find us.’

‘Bugger what Ross thinks.’ Caroline laughed. ‘I have an investment to protect.’ She gave him a look. ‘Are you aware that I wasn’t the only one who followed you tonight?’

‘No.’ Dwight had had no clue in truth. 

‘Well, an emissary of the Company was ahead of me.’ She moved to hand him the basket and the brush of her gloved fingers against his sent a shiver down Dwight’s spine. ‘He was watching you in the bushes.’

It took a moment for Dwight to realise she had used the past tense. 

‘Was?’ he asked and Caroline laughed again, and Dwight felt like that laugh could happily enslave him for the rest of his days.

‘He will not be getting up, let’s just say that.’ She looked around her and then chose a place to sit. ‘The horse will no doubt come in handy.’ She looked at him expectantly. ‘Now show me what you are doing.’

*********

Jim sat cross legged on the covers and watched Ross think. 

‘You realise that it is customary to move a piece when it is your turn.’ he observed and Ross shot him a look from under his dark brows. 

‘I’m thinking.’ He folded his arms and that stubborn look was back. ‘There’s nothing to say how long I have to take.’

Jim smiled and kept silent as Ross appeared to study every piece from every angle. They were now two games apiece and Black Dog had long since decided that lying in front of the dying fire downstairs was a better plan as the tension was now back and even more fraught than before. Ross was a poor loser and Jim was no better, both of them now treating this like a battle to the death.

They were also the best part of the bottle down, both of them drinking steadily but not to excess. It was not exactly cold in the attic, the heat from downstairs rising and keeping it well warmed, but the brandy seemed to light Jim up from the inside and now he was sitting with his shirt open as he played. Ross was back in bed, the covers drawn up to his waist. The chess board was on the couch between them. Jim was playing black and Ross white and it was proving to be something they were both very good at. It had been Imanol the Catalonian surgeon who had taught Jim to play. It had helped pass long nights at sea when he was a boy and it appeared that Joshua, who had been a superlative player, had at some point taught Ross just as well. 

Ross finally reached for his piece, only to draw his hand back and then continue studying the board. Jim huffed a laugh and got another look, which he returned with interest. 

‘You’re delaying on purpose.’ he accused and Ross narrowed those lovely eyes at him and then made a play. Unfortunately for Jim, it was a good one and then he had to sit and think about what to do next. He stuck his nail in his mouth, a habit he had, and contemplated what to do next. 

Ross’ voice shook him out of his thoughts and he looked up. 

‘What did you say?’ he asked and Ross met his eyes. 

‘I said you are quite possibly the most contradictory person I have ever met.’ Ross replied. ‘You’re more educated than many a boy I was a cadet with and yet you are…’ He huffed. ‘You’re not what I ever thought a pirate would be. ’

‘Met many have you?’ Jim chuckled and played his piece, getting an annoyed frown from Ross. 

‘This is turning into an impasse.’ he muttered and sat back. ‘And you’re bloody insufferable.’

‘Well, I apologise that I couldn’t think of any other ways to entertain you, but Dwight said no sudden movements.’ Jim shot back. He’d meant it as a flippant comment but looked up to see that Ross’ dark eyes were now burning.

‘Just what are you suggesting?’ he asked and Jim felt a little thrill go through him. Suddenly the room felt too hot. 

‘Nothing at all.’ He looked down at the board to hide the sudden flush he felt in his cheeks. ‘It was a silly remark.’

‘How many times?’ Ross asked and Jim felt confused. 

‘How many times what?’ he asked. He still wasn’t looking up but he could feel Ross’ eyes boring into him. 

‘You and my father?’ Ross replied, his voice cutting. ‘How many times did you fuck him?’ 

It was enough to get Jim’s blood up and his temper flared like a match to powder. 

‘How many times did you fuck your sister?’ he retorted. ‘Oh, my apologies. Your step-sister.’ 

‘You leave Elizabeth out of this.’ Ross hissed. 

‘I will when you stop bringing up the fact that Joshua and I enjoyed each other’s company.’ Jim snapped. ‘It certainly didn’t seem to bother you the other night when you put your hands on me.’

He hadn’t known what to expect when he’d said it but the chessboard went flying, scattering pieces everywhere, and the next thing Jim knew he found himself on his back, wrists pinned and Ross looming over him. 

‘You fucking bastard.’ The words were breathed in a murderous voice. ‘I fucking hate you.’ 

Jim looked back at him, every ounce of defiance and anger he could muster now flashing in his light eyes. 

‘The feeling is entirely mutual, I assure you.’ he hissed back. 

Ross locked eyes with him and they glared at each other. Jim could feel his pulse racing and his body responding even against his will. He twisted to free himself and Ross slammed him back down, tightening his grip. Then he leaned down and Jim felt that Ross was every bit as hard as he was. 

‘If I were to fuck you now, I wonder if you’d even remember him.’ Ross breathed, his mouth only an inch away. 

‘Only one way to find out.’ Jim’s own mouth was dry, his entire body now on fire with the lust that consumed him. He looked down between them. The covers had been pulled back and he could just see Ross’ erect cock. It made him want to spread his legs and demand that Ross fuck him. 

‘You are a whore.’ Ross moved closer and his eyes were hypnotic. ‘You claim different but I can smell it on you.’ 

‘Then treat me like one.’ Jim breathed back, just before their mouths met. 

It was unexpectedly gentle. Ross let his mouth linger, kissing Jim with a certainty that made it seem like this was all so inevitable, and Jim let himself fall into it. He responded, his mouth opening easily under Ross’ demand for entry and the slide of their tongues made him catch his breath. He thrust up instinctively, and Ross pushed down to meet him.

Jim moaned and struggled to free his hands and Ross let him go, sliding one hand under Jim’s head and tangling his fingers in Jim’s hair, using the other to support himself. Jim decided he was having none of that and wrapped both arms around Ross’ shoulders, pulling him down with one quick movement that made Ross fall onto him with all his weight. He winced audibly and retaliated by moving so he was able to reach down and push at Jim’s clothing. 

‘Get these fucking things off.’ he muttered when he pulled back. Jim smiled and nipped at his lip

‘You do it.’ he shot back.

Ross huffed in annoyance and sat back up enough to shuffle down. Jim sat up as well and Ross took his shirt and yanked it over his head before undoing the buttons on his trousers so Jim could kick them off. He fell back naked on the bed and Ross was all over him again. This time he wasn’t so gentle and the kiss was bruising, both of them biting at each other in their attempt to get as deep as they could. 

Jim could hardly hold on. He dragged his nails down Ross’ back, feeling Ross shudder even as he did so. He bit at Jim’s jaw, then kissed down the side of his neck and to his shoulder where he sank his teeth in and Jim couldn’t quiet himself. He let his head fall back and moaned and hiked both legs up to rest against Ross’ hips. 

‘God, Ross…’ he exhorted. ‘Fuck me.’

Ross pulled back long enough to look at him, his dark curls hanging in his eyes. He ran one hand over Jim’s chest, his calloused fingers drifting over one nipple and circling slowly. 

‘You are beautiful.’ His voice was a low growl. ‘I would pay more than I paid for your bloody ship to have you.’

‘And here I am offering it to you for nothing.’ Jim put every bit of challenge he could in the face of his impending submission into his voice. ‘If you are bold enough to take it.’

‘The question is will you let me?’ Ross studied him and now there was a surprisingly wicked smirk playing about his mouth. 

‘I have just asked you to fuck me.’ Jim pointed out. ‘What more do you want?’

‘I am a jealous man by nature.’ Ross nosed at him. ‘I don’t share.’ 

‘Good.’ Jim ran his hands down Ross’ backside and pulled him in against him. ‘Neither do I.’ He leaned up enough to reconnect their mouths and this time he took the lead, licking at Ross’ mouth and forcing his way in. Ross growled at him, his fingers pinching just hard enough to make Jim break away and gasp as the heat flared under his skin. 

Ross moved down, his mouth leaving a wet trail that burned all the way down until he could take Jim’s nipple in his mouth, teeth scraping lightly over it, using his fingers on the other. Jim closed his eyes, losing himself in the sensations and lifting his hands to lie alongside his head. He lay there, heart pounding and blood rushing in his ears as Ross teased him with his mouth, now kneeling over him so there was no other contact between them. It was maddening and yet at the same time Jim never wanted him to stop.

He lowered one hand to rest on the dark curls, threading his fingers through them and listening to the wet sounds of Ross’ mouth and tongue as he moved from one side to the other. 

‘You’ve done this many times before?’ Jim had not meant to ask the question, but it just came out. Ross lifted his head and looked at him steadily, dark eyes glittering in the lantern light. 

‘As a means to an end.’ he replied, sitting up again and resting back on his heels, Jim’s legs still locked around him. ‘But you are the first man I have truly wanted like this.’

Jim looked back at him, his heart full of something he didn’t want to acknowledge. 

‘How is it you want me?’ he asked, hardly daring to breathe for anticipation. 

‘You said you didn’t fuck for love.’ Ross met his eyes and held them. ‘And I do not love you. But there is something here that holds me as surely as if I did.’

It was a bold confession and one Jim had not been expecting. He inhaled sharply and then held out both arms. 

‘Come here, Ross.’ he ordered and Ross came to him, kissing him again in that oddly gentle way until Jim could hardly breathe. They leaned into each other, foreheads touching as they both battled with what was happening to them. Now it became frantic, their kisses turning fiery and they hands roaming across bare skin. 

Ross moved and Jim hissed at the heated slide of skin, the friction of their cocks rubbing against each other. It was more than anything he’d had in as long as he could remember, his want overtaking him. Ross seemed to sense everything he needed, touching him with a perfect balance of demand and desire, his fingers skimming over Jim’s skin and leaving tiny powder trails of pleasure. 

‘Move.’ The demand made Jim’s head spin and he allowed Ross to get up, his hands pulling at him until he had Jim turned over onto his front. Now his mouth was at the back of Jim’s neck, biting just hard enough to make Jim whine in spite of himself, panting as Ross laid a trail of kissed down his shoulders and spine, going ever lower and licking a wet line up his back, the air chilling his overheated skin. 

Strong fingers moved over him, seeking out what they both wanted. Jim gripped the counterpane in both hands as he felt the first fleeting touch before they disappeared and then came back wet after Ross had stuck them in his mouth. Need made him rough but Jim pushed back into them, his own arousal heady and drowning him in its intensity.

The first push was almost hesitant, but it was enough to pull a cry from him and then Ross grew more sure in his ministrations and the first one breached him. Jim gritted his teeth against the sting, abandoning all self-control. There was a low huff of laughter from behind him and then Ross did something completely unexpected, shifting further down until Jim felt his breath scorching his skin. 

The first touch of Ross’ tongue was like a lighting strike to his already overstimulated senses and now Jim knew he couldn’t have resisted even if he had wanted to. He lay there and let Ross do as he pleased, licking at him gently at first, then picking up the pace when Jim threw one hand back and grabbed at his hair, tugging hard and spreading his legs to give Ross access. He shuddered as he heard the first deep moan behind him, Ross pressing in deep with his tongue until it made bright sparks of light go off behind Jim’s eyes.

Jim moved to lean on one arm, his grip tightening to what must have surely been the point of discomfort. It only seemed to spur Ross on and now he was feverish in his attentions and Jim glanced back over one shoulder, only to get a flash of dark eyes that were filled with a passion that exhilarated him. Ross lifted his head, mouth wet. Jim met his eyes and they looked at each other, each of them silently answering the question they were both asking. 

Ross got to his knees, moving between Jim’s legs and running one hand down his back. Jim waited, still watching him as Ross moved into position, spitting into his hand and using it on himself before he looked back up at him. Jim stared back and then nodded and Ross came right in close. 

The first push was like heaven, the thickness of Ross’ cock stretching him out and making him gasp. Ross was wet, saliva and his own secretions making the slide inside easy. Jim was well used to being penetrated and he adored that first burn that faded out into overwhelming pleasure as Ross breached him. He turned back around, unable to even think as Ross bottomed out inside him and came to drape himself over Jim’s back. He got one arm around Jim’s chest and Jim gripped his arm, nails digging in as Ross started to move, slow deep rolls of his hips as he thrust in and drew out again. He pulled Jim in close, his mouth on Jim’s neck, and they moved together in perfect synchronisation. 

Jim panted hard, dropping his head to mouth at Ross’ arm. Behind him, Ross was moaning with each push inside. He licked at Jim’s neck and traced the line of his ear with his tongue and then everything seemed to just mesh together and the next thrust was hard. Jim could feel the friction between their bodies, the scratch of hair and bandages along his back as Ross used his other hand to push Jim’s knee up and then moved it cover his own where it lay next to his head, his fingers sliding through Jim’s and holding on tightly.

Jim matched his movements to Ross, thrusting down onto the bed in counterpoint. Like this he was held in place, pinned down by Ross’ weight and not wanting to be anywhere else. Ross was panting as hard as he was, both of them fighting back against each other as the heat caught them both and burned them. 

It came up too fast and too strong, but Jim was powerless to stop it. He bore down hard around Ross’ cock and Ross growled at him, kissing at the side of Jim’s face until he turned his head enough and their mouths met, frantic and messy as they brought each other to the edge. When it came, it was devastating. Jim went rigid, his whole body shaking uncontrollably as he came. Ross drove in all the way inside him and followed, his answering cry matching Jim’s and loud enough to shatter the stillness in the room. He collapsed against Jim’s back, but did not let him go and Jim melted into him and the steady warmth of his body as they lay and battled for breath. 

When it was over, he expected Ross to pull out and move away from him. He did not expect Ross to lie back down next to him and forcefully gather Jim into his arms and move him so they were on their sides, still plastered together chest to back. 

‘You are a terrible influence, Jim Hawkins.’ He breathed the words into Jim’s ear as one hand stroked down his side and Jim was powerless to do anything but smile. He half turned and Ross moved over him to meet him, kissing him again and again until they were lost in each other. When they finally parted, Jim looked into his dark eyes and raised a hand to push the sweaty curls from Ross’ face.

‘You’re not the only one that feels this pull between us.’ he murmured and Ross dipped his head and nosed at Jim’s hand. 

‘This is going to complicate things enormously, I hope you realise that.’ he huffed, sounding more than a little put out, and Jim laughed softly. 

‘Let it.’ he replied and kissed him.


	20. Meeting Head On

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The next day brings new things.

Dwight stretched and felt his back complain at the cruel treatment it had received. A night of hauling and grinding charcoal and sulphur had left him sore and stiff and dirty. It also didn’t help that he’d spent the night on the floor of his little room wrapped in his coat and a blanket and pillowed on his bag. 

He cracked open one eye and looked at his pallet where his unexpected guest was still sleeping. Caroline looked even more beautiful in repose, her gold hair falling across her face. She had the other blanket and Dwight allowed himself a smile as he looked at her. He was under no illusions that their flirtation would only ever be theoretical, but it was night to daydream while he could. With a woman like Caroline, he would not be lonely and he indulged in a small fantasy about a proper laboratory and having her at his side. As if sensing his scrutiny, Caroline opened her eyes and smiled back at him. 

‘Good morning.’ She shifted in the blanket. ‘I appear to have stolen your bed.’ 

‘It was gladly given.’ Dwight replied. ‘I was thankful to have such pleasant company.’ 

He meant it. They had spoken into the small hours of the morning of his upbringing at his father’s side, also a chemist, and his dreams of medical school which had fallen by the wayside when his father had accidentally set off an explosion which killed him and left Dwight to care for his mother, leaving home at fifteen with his father’s equipment to pursue a life with the travelling entertainers that moved around from parish to parish. They had talked about Caroline’s family and how her father and mother had drifted into themselves upon hearing news of her brother’s death at Vitoria, a captain in the 3rd Dragoon Guards. His demise had led them to barely acknowledge her and she had become involved in the movement against the Regent when she had met with Christopher. She had spoken about him at length, and how he had encouraged her to be a woman if independence.

Caroline sat up and brushed her hair out of her eyes. 

‘I should leave soon.’ She raised both arms above her head and stretched with catlike grace. ‘That way I can pass this off as an early morning ride.’ 

‘You will all right returning to the Kensington alone?’ Dwight asked and she nodded. 

‘I will be perfectly all right.’ she replied. ‘I would appreciate something to eat before I go though.’

‘Breakfast then.’ Dwight smiled and got up. ‘I fear I can only offer you toasted bread and cheese.’

‘Something I like very well.’ Caroline laughed. 

They went downstairs and Dwight made the fire and they sat and toasted bits of bread and cheese over it, sitting closer than convention would have normally allowed. They leaned into each other and laughed as Dwight made a great production of presenting Caroline with her breakfast on the end of a stick. 

‘I should like to see you make the powder.’ Caroline said. 

‘We need the final ingredient first.’ Dwight replied. ‘And that shall be no easy feat.’

‘No.’ Caroline conceded. ‘I am still intrigued as to what you all have in mind.’ 

‘Well.’ Dwight debated inwardly for a moment and then decided to throw caution to the wind. After all, Caroline had possibly more to lose by being exposed than they did. ‘There is something. You are aware now that the Company is having us all followed.’

‘Yes.’ Caroline nodded. ‘An advantage I have.’ Her smile became mischievous. ‘I would imagine that having them track your every movement means it will be quite difficult to do whatever you’re planning. I can only imagine that you have two thoughts in mind, one of which would be stealing the saltpetre you need from the Company warehouse and judging from the Poldarks’ rather chequered history with them and Joshua’s enmity for Cary Warleggan, which was well documented believe me, I can only assume that it would appeal to Ross’ sense of poetic judgement.’

‘You are quite brilliant, you know that?’ Dwight smiled. ‘Imagine what you could accomplish if you turned your mind to science.’

‘I prefer intrigue and conspiracy.’ Caroline laughed. ‘So it’s the warehouse then?’

‘I cannot confirm or deny that particular rumour.’ Dwight speared another chunk of bread on his stick. ‘I will mention though that if we were, we would be in need of assistance.’

‘In what way?’ Caroline asked, her eyes full of curiosity.

‘Well, as you are aware we cannot move without the Company breathing down our necks.’ Dwight explained. 'We shall need a plan to get in and out undetected or we need to have a diversion at which we can present themselves in order to divert suspicion and provide us with an alibi should the Company’s first port of call is us, which I have no doubt it would be.’

‘In that case I might well have a solution.’ Caroline said. ‘Lord and Lady Hamilton are having a ball a week from now. I am sure they will be happy for a suggestion as to entertainment.’ Her eyes sparkled. ‘Could Jim pass as your assistant?’

‘He could.’ Dwight replied. ‘But what of Ross?’

‘I shall need an escort and the Poldark name still carries some importance.’ Caroline assured him. ‘Ross will be my companion for the evening and this way all three of you shall be surrounded by a hundred witnesses as to your whereabouts.’ She smiled brilliantly at him. ‘It’s the perfect ruse.’

‘Clever girl.’ Dwight laughed. 

After they had eaten he went with her to where she had left her horse. 

‘I shall send a message with the necessary information soon.’ Caroline turned and now her blear blue eyes were wicked. ‘In the meantime I fully expect to be kept informed as to your progress, my little chemist.’ 

‘I don’t work for you, my dear.’ Dwight grinned. ‘And as terrifying as I am sure you are, Ross is bigger and pays my way now.’

Caroline laughed and then stepped forward, lifting both hands and gripping him by the lapels of his coat. 

‘That may be Dwight.’ Her voice was full of promises. ‘But I can do this.’ 

Dwight frowned but then was completely knocked sideways when Caroline lifted onto her toes and kissed him firmly on the mouth. 

Dwight felt his heart leap in his chest but when his brain finally caught up enough to respond to her overture, Caroline had already let him go. She laughed and smoothed her hands over his coat. 

‘I must go.’ Her look was completely unrepentant. ‘Help me up?’

‘Of course.’ Dwight assisted her onto the back of her chestnut mare and watched as she gathered her reins and kicked the mare into a canter and disappeared down the lane and into the trees. Then he lifted one hand and placed his fingers to his lips, smiling like a man possessed.

********

With no Jud to call them to breakfast, Ross found himself in the very unusual situation of having slept until almost twelve when he woke up, automatically leaning over to the table next to the couch and looking at his watch. 

He lay back and then turned his head, smiling at the unruly blond curls still next to him. Jim was lying on his side, one arm under the pillow and the other pulled in tight to his chest. He was breathing deeply and evenly and Ross rolled to look at him, admiring his face and the dark bruises on the slope of Jim’s shoulder where he’d bitten too hard.

He reached up with one hand and traced a golden eyebrow and got a snuffling noise and then a look from the sleepy blue-green eyes that opened to look at him. Up this close, they were the warm beguiling colour of a tropical sea and Ross found himself staring before he got an annoyed huff. 

‘If you’re going to awaken me, you could at least make it worth my while.’ Jim grumbled and turned over, pulling the coverlet up and burrowing down inside it. 

Ross chuckled and moved in close, fitting his body in along the line of Jim’s back and pulling his delectable backside in against his cock where it created a lovely friction that made it harden. He moved slowly and felt Jim’s breathing catch, a very pleasing development. He did it again, thrusting slowly so his cock slid over Jim’s skin and dragged just enough to make it delicious. 

‘And just how would you like me to do that?’ he purred in Jim’s ear and then only narrowly avoided the swipe directed at him over Jim’s shoulder. 

‘You could let me go back to sleep.’ Jim muttered. ‘I barely had three hours last night. You’re worse than your bloody father, and he was practically insatiable.’

The remark would have made Ross insensible with anger before. Now it just amused him enormously knowing that once they had gotten started he’d been merciless, fucking Jim repeatedly until the sun had started to come up. By the end Jim could only lie there and make pathetic whimpering noises at him, his body abused by the relentless assault of Ross’ cock as he’d made up for the fact that he’d not fucked anyone for the past eighteen months. Even the ache in his side and the stitches hadn’t dampened his ardour and he was now intimately acquainted with every inch of Jim’s body. 

That of course meant, he knew exactly how to get him interested. 

‘I am surprised at you, Jim.’ He affected a tone of mock concern. ‘Giving up so easily. One could almost say that I am too much for you.’

‘Like bloody hell you are.’ Jim replied with an answering chuckle. ‘But I have a sore arse and very little inclination to accommodate that magnificent cock of yours.’

‘You could always repay me in kind.’ Ross nosed at his neck, blowing hair out of the way to lick at yet another mark he’d left. He got an exasperated sigh and then Jim turned over to face him. He looked unimpressed but his eyes were sparkling with mischief and Ross knew he had his attention. 

‘I could.’ He smiled and the dimples woke up. ‘Or I could show you something.’

‘Like what?’ Ross was immediately on guard, raising a suspicious eyebrow at him. 

‘You’ve never been to the Americas, have you?’ Jim asked and Ross failed to see what that had anything to do with what they were talking about. 

‘I haven’t.’ He inhaled sharply as he felt Jim’s hand on his stomach before it started to drift in a downwards direction. ‘Why?’

‘The whores there do something very interesting.’ Jim shifted and his fingers closed around Ross’ cock, stroking in a leisurely manner. ‘It’s not heard of here, or much of Europe for that matter.’

‘And once again, you make no sense to anyone but yourself.’ Ross snorted, the light strokes doing nothing to ease his arousal. 

‘That’s because you have no imagination.’ Jim retorted as he let him go and then disappeared under the covers. Intrigued by this development, Ross turned onto his back as Jim started to kiss along his chest, licking at Ross’ nipples like he had all the time in the world and dragging his fingers through the thick pelt of hair that covered them. 

‘You are like a bear.’ It came out muffled and Ross lost patience and threw the covers back. Jim was half way down the couch and when he looked back up, his smile was wicked. 

‘It keeps me warm in this frigid climate.’ Ross' sarcasm was uncontained and Jim laughed, still muffled because he was sucking on one nipple at the time. He still made no further advance and Ross sighed and stuck one hand behind his head, the other going to Jim’s head to tangle in his curls. 

Jim gave the nipple a final flick with his tongue and then dropped a line of kisses down to Ross’ stomach and then lower. By now Ross was starting to feel a little odd, even if his cock was demanding whatever Jim had in mind. Then something clicked and he gasped, shocked in spite of himself. 

Ross considered himself to be a man of the world but if Jim was about to embark on what he suspected, then even he was alarmed by the level of depravity the man was capable of. 

‘What are you doing?’ he hissed and Jim gave him one last look from under his lashes and licked from the base of Ross’ cock to the tip in one lascivious motion. 

‘That.’ he declared, looking thoroughly pleased at Ross’ complete astonishment and then compounding it by lowering his head before Ross could protest and taking the head in his mouth.

‘Oh God.’ It came out before Ross could stop himself from speaking, the warm wetness of Jim’s mouth so completely foreign but also possibly one of the best things he’d ever experienced. ‘Jim…you can’t.’

Jim sucked gently and then let Ross’ cock slide out of his mouth. 

‘You don’t like it?’ He was smiling so widely he looked a little demented and Ross was starting to believe he just might be as insane as he’d suspected. 

‘That is not the issue.’ he protested. 

‘In that case be quiet.’ Jim retorted and dropped his head down. This time he took Ross all the way in and Ross moaned aloud, completely lost as Jim started to move his head. It felt indescribably good, and when Jim moved his tongue against the head of Ross’ cock it got even better. He abandoned himself to it, tightening his grip on Jim’s hair and shuddering as his hips jerked up involuntarily and drove his cock deeper into Jim’s mouth. 

Jim made an approving noise and carried on, picking up the pace and sucking hard on the next pull up. It was so unexpected that Ross found himself making a rather loud noise, especially when Jim pulled off and lapped at the head of his cock like an overlarge cat. He used his tongue to trace circles and tease the slit, his eyes never leaving Ross’ face. Ross couldn’t help himself, moaning with an inhibition he almost never showed. It just felt so incredible that he never wanted it to stop. 

Jim went back down, working faster and using one hand to stimulate the shaft at the same time and Ross lost control of himself. He could hear the way his cries shattered the silence of the house and then the tightness in his gut hit its peak and he bowed off the bed into Jim’s mouth as he came down his throat. Jim did not stop, taking Ross through it and out the other side before he finally eased off, spitting onto Ross’ stomach and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He looked particularly smug. 

‘Now maybe you’ll be satisfied.’ he said and Ross mustered enough energy to growl at him, chest heaving as he tried in vain to recover from what had to surely count as one of the most spectacular climaxes he’d ever experienced.

‘Give me enough time and I am going to pay you back for that.’ The threat sounded pathetic even to him. Jim laughed and moved to straddle him. Ross couldn’t help staring openly at his cock, its beautiful curve and soft colouring making him think the unthinkable as he contemplated returning the favour. He reached down and ran a thumb over the head where it was shiny with arousal and then licked tentatively at his thumb. It tasted neutral with the slightest hint of salt and Jim snickered. 

‘I do believe you now owe me.’ He dragged his fingers through the mess matted in the thick hair on Ross’ stomach and reached between his legs and Ross laughed. He wasn’t as schooled as Jim was in this but he still enjoyed it immensely and had happily reciprocated the night before several times. 

Jim leaned over him on one hand, using the slickness on his fingers to work them in gently. Ross hissed and reached back to grip the pillow behind his head. Jim had a particularly deft touch and lightning shot up Ross' spine as he curled his fingers in just the right way. 

‘You seem to have no end to your talents.’ He gritted the words out and Jim laughed again and started to move his hand faster, the stretch making Ross’ cock twitch in response. For all Jim’s protests he had turned out to be a voracious lover, demanding and able to do things to Ross’ body that he’d forgotten he was even capable of feeling.

‘I feel as if I should be taking a bow.’ Jim quipped and then drew his fingers out slowly before thrusting them back in again. ‘But I think I’ll show my appreciation in another way.’

‘Then bloody get on with it.’ Ross ordered and moaned as Jim drove in hard and hit that place inside him that drew such pleasure. 

‘All in good time.’ Jim twisted his fingers and Ross had to bite his lip to stifle his cry. He refused to break and beg for Jim to fuck him, as much as he desired nothing more than to feel Jim’s cock inside him and driving him to levels of pleasure that had been but a distant memory and which were now burned into his mind and soul as if with a brand.

‘Enough.’ he hissed. ‘Just fucking do it.’

Jim smiled and withdrew his fingers and Ross started to turn, only to feel a hand on him. 

‘No.’ Jim was coming forward, his eyes full of intent. ‘I want to watch you.’ He pushed Ross’ legs apart and waved impatiently for the pillow next to him. ‘Give me that.’

‘You’re ordering me around?’ Ross muttered, grabbing the pillow and hurling at it him. Jim snickered and caught it, slapping Ross on the hip. 

‘Up.’ He shoved the pillow in under Ross’ backside. ‘And open your legs more.’

‘I’m not your bloody woman.’ Ross snapped, his body now taught with anticipation. 

‘Most assuredly not.’ Jim laughed. ‘I would not be fucking you if you were.’ He moved in, his cock nudging against Ross as he got comfortable and then guided himself in.

Ross let himself go, all the tension melting from him with the first push inside as he hooked his legs over Jim's and held on. Jim was well sized and hard as stone and it soothed his mind and body no end as he gave up all his thoughts and devoted himself only to that singular moment. He drove in steadily, watching Ross carefully for signs of discomfort. Ross waited for him to bottom out, their bodies impacting, and then reached up and caught Jim just as he’d done the night before and pulled him down to him. He got him by the hair and Jim snarled at him and kissed him hard. He snapped his hips forward, driving a choked off cry from Ross’ lips and did the same, bracing himself on one elbow and tangling his fingers in Ross’ hair as he moved, fucking him deep and slow. Ross opened his mouth to him, drowning in Jim’s smell, his taste, the way he moved inside him. 

Over him Jim pulled back and rested his forehead against his. He looked into Ross’ eyes, his thrusts quickening until they were both moaning into each other’s mouths. This time was not as frantic as their couplings during the night had been but the closeness between them had intensified to the point of near discomfort. Ross had never felt this before, not even with Elizabeth, and it was terrifying and wonderful to him. He let Jim’s hair go and wrapped both arms around him to pull him in and Jim buried his face in his neck, panting against his skin as he started to shake. 

Ross dragged his nails down Jim’s back, leaving marks that he hoped would last, and arched up into him. He was close once more, the friction between their bodies taking him back up again. He could feel himself starting to go and as Jim’s thrusts became discordant he worked one hand between them and finished himself off with a few strokes that toppled him over the edge. It was enough to drag Jim with him and they came almost together, nails digging into sweat streaked skin and biting at each other’s mouths.

Eventually Jim slowed and stopped and then lowered himself so he was draped over Ross. 

‘Now I need to go back to sleep.’ he announced.

‘I thought we were going to the ship today?’ Ross was shattered, every bit of energy now gone in a blissful wave of post coital glow. 

‘It can wait an hour or two.’ Jim eased out and fell back on the bed beside him. ‘It’s not exactly sailing anywhere with a crew of five, six if you count Dem.’ He turned his head and smiled at Ross. ‘Besides, you need to wash. You smell like the back room at Mrs Winter's.’

‘Bugger off, Jim’ Ross retorted and closed his eyes. 

*********

Mary stood on the bow of the Hispaniola. She heard the distinctive clip on the planks of the deck behind her and smiled. 

‘You slept well?’ she asked and Silver murmured assent as he came to stand next to her. 

‘I missed her.’ He looked up at the foremast and laid one hand on the rail in front of him. ‘I feel as if I have come home.’

‘As do I.’ Mary smiled at him. ‘We have all missed each other.’

‘We have, my girl.’ Silver nodded and looked out to the river. ‘But we are not yet upon the ocean. Only then will my heart be truly at ease.’ He looked back at where Ben and Israel were working. ‘They make a fine pair of hands and it is good to see Ben with light in his eyes again.’ He sighed. ‘It took a great deal out of him.’ 

Mary nodded. She wasn’t the only one to have lost loved ones that day. Ben’s son Alec had been his apprentice and hanged along with the rest of the crew. 

‘He is healing.’ She smiled but it still held a touch of melancholy. ‘A father with no son and a son with no father. It was fate that they found each other.’

‘And what of this new man?’ Silver looked at her. ‘I have heard Jim’s side but he is easily swayed by a pretty pair of dark eyes.’ He chuckled. ‘I could hear it in his voice when he spoke of Ross Poldark.’

‘He’s strong.’ Mary replied. ‘A man who brooks no resistance. But I think he also has principles and when he gives you his word, for good or ill, he will keep it until his death.’ She nodded at where Demelza was perched in the rigging above them like a bird. She was singing to herself and dangling her feet. ‘And more importantly, Dem likes him.’

‘Well, we shall see soon enough when he and Jim arrive.’ Silver said. ‘Billy is seeing to luncheon, so we had better go below decks before he gets in a snit and burns everything.’ 

Mary laughed and linked her arm through his. 

‘Might I ask you to escort me then, my captain?’ Her voice was light and happy.

‘My lady, it would be an honour.’ Silver replied with a flash of teeth. 

*********

Jim came down the stairs, shrugging into his coat of worn brown velvet. This was his daytime costume, and he took a leather thong from his pocket and tied his hair back as he went out through the back to the stables. He saddled the horses and then went back to the kitchen door. 

‘Ross!’ He stood and waited for a reply and then huffed. ‘Bloody get a move on!’

‘I’m coming!’ Ross bellowed from somewhere on the staircase. He came charging through like a rampant bull, dark curls flying and Jim felt his stomach lurch. 

‘My lord, your chariot awaits.’ He gave Ross a mocking bow as he stomped past him and then laughed at Ross look of amazement as he saw that Jim had managed to tack up Bathsheba with a distinct lack of injury. 

‘It appears that you are not content with seducing me and had to seduce my horse as well.’ He sniped and Jim laughed as he went to Gunpowder and pulled himself into the saddle.

‘I hardly think it was me that seduced you.’ he replied. ‘After all, it was you who pressed yourself on me last night.’

‘Like hell it was.’ Ross retorted and kicked Bathsheba into a canter.

They rode to the docks, bickering happily all the way. When they arrived they handed the horses over to a boy for watching and walked down to the Hispaniola. Jim glanced at Ross and saw that there was a little bit of uncertainty in his face. He grinned, knowing that Ross wasn’t anywhere as arrogant as he made himself out to be. 

He led him to the ship and they stood for a moment, side by side as they looked up at her. 

‘Now is a good time to turn back.’ Jim said. ‘You might still have a chance to live out your dotage by the fire with Jud muttering about having to get you your slippers.’

Next to him, Ross snorted with laughter and Jim knew that was now probably his most favourite sound in existence, just after the way Ross moaned when he fucked him. 

‘Let’s go.’ he replied. ‘Time for you to make a pirate out of me.’

They climbed aboard, and Ross took a moment to take his measure of the ship. She was sturdily built, as solid as a road beneath his feet. Jim watched him and then heard the sound of Silver approaching. He turned and saw his foster father coming across from the bow, as surefooted as any man with two legs. He waited until Silver was standing before them and smiled as he watched them give each other a thorough once over. 

‘Ross, this is John Silver.’ he said. 

‘Captain Silver.’ Ross spoke with calm confidence just bordering on arrogance as he extended his hand and Jim knew that Silver was impressed. He looked back at Ross steadily and then took the hand. 

‘Mr Poldark.’ he replied. ‘Welcome aboard your new ship.’


	21. A Ship's Crew

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time to discuss plans...and other things.

By the late afternoon, Ross’ knowledge of his purchase had grown exponentially. He had the benefit of Ben’s knowledge of the ship and the carpenter had expounded at length on her virtues. He was now standing in his shirtsleeves and listening to Ben talk the supplies he would need while Israel listened to him and looked at Ross in unconcealed curiosity. It took Ross a moment to realise that he was staring at his tattoos, revealed by the rolled up sleeves of his shirt.

He grinned at the boy and Israel looked away quickly, embarrassed to have been caught so openly scrutinising him. It made a change from Demelza’s open nosiness. 

‘So all in all, that’ll be quite a tidy sum.’ Ben finished and Ross looked at him. 

‘The cost is inconsequential.’ he said. ‘I want this ship set up with everything we might need. It’s a long voyage to where we are going.’ 

‘Aye.’ Ben looked at him intently, grey eyes thoughtful. ‘You ever been to sea for that long?’

‘I haven’t.’ Ross confessed. ‘My last voyage was cut short and I thought it best to be land bound for a while.’

‘A lubber?’ Ben chuckled. ‘You’ll be spewing your guts over the side once we round the Horn.’ He gave Israel a grin. ‘Both of you.’

‘Not me.’ Demelza appeared as if from nowhere and grabbed Ross’ hand and clung on like a monkey. ‘I have been round twice.’

‘Aye, lass.’ Ben gave her an indulgent smile. ‘Once as a babe and once as a young girl and both times you watched from deck in your mother’s arms.’

‘That sounds very impressive.’ Ross said looking down at her. 

‘Come.’ Demelza tugged on his hand. ‘I want to show you something.’

‘I’ve already seen every inch of the ship.’ Ross protested but she was adamant and he found himself being towed along. He walked after her, passing Jim and Silver, who were standing at midships, and shrugged at them as she led him to the rear hatch.

The deck below was cool and dark, smelling of smoke and wood and canvas. Demelza moved ahead of him, her copper hair gleaming in the light of the lantern as he made him follow her to the stern. Here there were cabins, scarcely bigger than a wardrobe each and she took him to the one right at the back. 

Ross had to duck to enter the enclosed space and was surprised to find that it was fitted out with cabinets and a desk and what looked like a sleeping platform with a raised side and made up like an actual bed with blankets and pillows. He had only seen hammocks aboard ship. Demelza clambered up and onto the bed and kicked her feet against the drawers set in underneath. 

‘This is ours.’ she declared. ‘I was made and born in this bunk.’

‘Now that’s quite a fact.’ Ross couldn’t help smiling at her. She was such an oddly endearing child. 

‘It’s true.’ Demelza replied. She nodded across the way at another cabin. ‘Jim sleeps in there. I imagine that he’ll change to the master’s cabin when you come aboard though.’  
Ross looked at her. 

‘Oh really?’ He narrowed his eyes at her. ‘And just how do you know that?’

Demelza laughed and reached inside her shirt and brought out a card. Ross took it from her outstretched hand and looked at it. It was the same one he’d picked up. 

‘You saw it.’ He didn’t need to ask if she had, he already knew.

‘Grace told me as well.’ Demelza replied. ‘But that’s not why I wanted you to come.’ 

‘Then why?’ Ross was curious. ‘What do you want me to see?’

‘Him.’ Demelza said and nodded behind him. 

*********

Up on deck, Jim inhaled deeply. The river water stink hit his nose and he wrinkled it, and yet he was still happier than he could have thought possible. 

Next to him, Silver watched him. His black eyes were unreadable. 

‘Out with it, old man.’ Jim didn’t turn. ‘You have never had a problem telling me what you think.’

‘You fucked him, didn’t you?’ Silver said. ‘That was unwise.’

‘It’s nothing.’ Jim shifted and looked out at the river. ‘He’s a diversion, that’s all.’

‘Jim.’ Silver’s voice had a low tone. ‘Just how much do you know about him?’

‘Enough to know that he was rich enough to buy our ship without thinking.’ Jim replied. ‘That he fights like a soldier and fucks like one too.’ He grinned. ‘He’s quite exceptional.’

He glanced over and then saw the look on Silver’s face. 

It made him stop in his tracks and Jim turned to face him, the smile disappearing from his face. 

‘John?’ He felt a sick feeling in his stomach. ‘What are you not telling me?’

‘The marks he carries.’ Silver said and he sounded more unsettled than Jim had ever heard him. ‘I have seen their like before.’

‘Where?’ Jim felt his heart speed up and it had nothing to do with anything good. 

‘When I was a boy.’ Silver leaned heavily on the rail. ‘Before I was taken. A man came to our village. He was a stranger from the north, a man of the desert. He had the same marks.’ His face got that lost faraway look on it that Jim had only ever seen a handful of times. ‘He was injured and starving. He had come seeking rest for the night. The chief of our village refused him, sent him away and the man left. He didn’t go far though. My father found him the next morning, collapsed not too far from our village and brought him back. Again the chief refused him help and ordered my father to take him back out into the bush to die. Instead my father hid him and he and my mother tended to him in secret.’

‘I fail to see what…’ Jim stared and Silver cut him off, his black eyes burning. 

‘When he was well enough to leave he gave my parents a warning.’ he said and his face fell. ‘He told my father that if we stayed, he and my mother would die and I would be never to return to my home again. He told us to go with him and that we would be safe. My parents knew that he was telling the truth and they agreed. That night we gathered our things and went back to the man.’ 

Jim stood stock still. Silver had never told him this before.

‘What happened?’ he asked and Silver closed his eyes, his face pained. 

‘The chief had been having my parents watched.’ His brows drew down. ‘He knew they had disobeyed him. He sent men to intercept us and they brought us all back to the village. The chief had my parents killed in front of me. I was only a child so he spared my life. The man was strung up and flayed alive. He took a long time to die, but when he did he cursed the chief and my village and told us that death would come for us from the ocean and all there would be wiped out.’ He looked at Jim, his face stern. ‘The next week the white men came with their ships and their guns. They slaughtered everyone in my village but the ones strong and young enough to work. The rest of us they butchered and left in the dirt for the vultures to feed on.’ 

Jim could do nothing but stare back at him. 

‘What are you saying?’ He knew but he couldn’t bring himself to ask it. 

‘There is dark magic around that man, Jim.’ Silver said. ‘I feel it.’ He reached out and laid a hand on Jim’s arm. ‘It will bring nothing but catastrophe.’

‘You don’t know that.’ Jim shook his head. ‘You can’t.’

‘Then ask Demelza.’ Silver said. ‘She sees.’

‘She says she has spoken to his mother.’ Jim said, his stomach twisting into knots. ‘His mother has been dead more than ten years. According to her, we are meant to be.’

‘Christ.’ Silver turned back to the water. ‘Nothing ever goes smoothly, does it?’ He sighed again. ‘Well, I suppose you had to fall in love sooner or later. You could have chosen bloody better though.’

That brought Jim right down to earth. 

‘I am not in love with him.’ he retorted. ‘I told you, he’s just a diversion.’ 

Silver looked at him and the pain in his eyes was replaced by mirth. He started to chuckle and that became a full blown laugh and Jim marvelled at his mercurial nature that could switch so swiftly from one mood to the next just as he always had. 

‘Of course not lad.’ He shook with laughter. ‘That’s why you’re blushing like a virgin in springtime.’

‘I am not.’ Jim huffed. He folded his arms and Silver chuckled. 

‘Calm yourself, Jim.’ He gave him a sidelong look. ‘If it’s any consolation, I think he loves you back.’ 

He walked off, snorting with laughter and Jim stared after him. 

‘Everyone’s bloody mad on this ship.’ he muttered and went off to look for Ross.

*********

Ross was sitting on a sea chest staring at the man opposite him. Tom Carne’s head sat at an odd angle but Demelza didn’t seem to notice. She sat next to her dead father and held his hand, smiling at him. Tom looked back at Ross. His blue eyes were those of his daughter, but his hair had been dark. He had been a tall handsome man in life and even his broken neck could not quite take away from that. 

‘So lad.’ His smile was crooked but kindly. ‘This is a fine pickle you’ve got yourself into.’ He chuckled. ‘What on earth possessed you to take up with pirates?’

‘I could say the same thing about them.’ Ross countered. He was well used to this and Tom was by far one of the kinder souls he’d encountered. 

‘Aye.’ Tom nodded. ‘You could.’ He gave Ross a piercing look. ‘I have heard tell of necromancers. I never had the skill for it.’ He looked down at his daughter. ‘But this little one had the caul and when I looked at her I knew she would be special.’ He looked at Ross. ‘I only had the sight. I could read it in the cards and on the waters but I could never speak to the dead. I am glad of it too. It is a fearful gift and one I fear will bring my little one more pain than it is worth.’

‘But Papa if I couldn’t do it, then I couldn’t see you.’ Demelza protested. ‘And Ross understands what it’s like.’

‘I do.’ Ross smiled at her. ‘Most unfortunately.’

‘I fear for where you are going.’ Tom said, his blue eyes grave. ‘I see something where you are headed that harbours a darkness I have no wish to ever come within striking distance of.’

‘You fear for her.’ Ross now understood. He looked at Demelza. ‘You’re afraid of what lies there for her.’

‘Not just her, Ross.’ Tom said. ‘I hear whispers in this side of the veil. They are not pleasant ones.’

‘I could tell Mary to keep her here.’ Ross offered. ‘They can live at Nampara with Jud and Prudie.’

‘No.’ Demelza interjected. Her little face was set in a stubborn expression. ‘I have to go.’

‘Why?’ Ross asked. ‘The wild is not place for a child.’

‘Because you’ll need me.’ Demelza insisted. ‘You’ll need me to help you with what is coming.’

‘And what is that exactly?” Ross asked. Now Demelza leaned into her father’s ghost, half hiding her face in his sleeve. She stayed quiet and shook her head and Ross felt a chill go through him. 

‘I can’t.’ she whispered. ‘They won’t let me tell you yet.’

Ross frowned at her and then looked up at Tom. He was now grey, his skin sloughing from his skull even as his eyes went black and sunk into his skull. The wisps of hair still clinging to it waved as if underwater. 

‘You keep her safe, Ross Poldark.’ He sounded far away as he stared to fade from sight. ‘Or you will answer to me.’

The last words was a sigh, and then he was gone. 

Demelza made a sad little sound and then moved across to where Ross was sitting. She crawled in under his arm, and Ross sighed and held onto her as she shook. 

‘I know.’ he sighed. ‘It’s awful to see him like that.’

‘They weighed him down and threw him overboard when they were done.’ She sniffled a little and wiped her nose on her sleeve. ‘I miss him.’

Ross was at a loss. Dealing with a sad child was out of his range of emotions, such as they were. He gave her a squeeze and then looked up as he heard someone coming through the ship. 

‘Ross?' It was Jim’s voice. ‘Are you down here?’

‘Over here.’ he called and looked at Demelza. She straightened up and wiped her eyes.

‘He doesn’t know.’ She looked back at him. ‘About you.’

‘No.’ Ross replied. ‘I haven’t told him.’

‘Neither have I.’ Demelza sniffled. ‘He would be afraid. Everyone is when they first find out.’

‘He knows about you though.’ Ross pointed out and she shrugged. 

‘He knows me.’ She checked to see if Jim was in earshot yet. ‘Maybe wait a little until he can’t run away. Like when we’re out at sea.’

‘Christ.’ Ross couldn’t help a chuckle. ‘All right.’

Jim came through the rear section and saw them.

‘What are you two doing down here?’ he asked and Ross got up.

‘Dem’s been showing me where she was born.’ He held out a hand and Demelza took it. ‘And where you sleep apparently.’

‘It’s not a fine house like yours.’ Jim looked around him, one hand to a beam. ‘But she kept me safe a long time.’ He met Ross’ eyes and Ross could see something there, like Jim was hiding something. ‘We should get back up on deck. There are things to discuss.’

Ross and Demelza followed him back up the gangway and out into the afternoon. The others were gathered and they went to join them. Silver was seated on a crate and he gestured to the other one that was empty and Ross took a seat. He felt rather uncomfortable with all the others looking at him. 

‘I thought it was time that we had a chat about the ship and what exactly you’re planning on getting us into.’ He gave Ross a stern look. ‘Jim has given me the outline of your plan, but I want all the details. I believe in being fully prepared.’

‘As do I.’ Ross looked at Jim and Jim gave him a nod. ‘You know about the island?’

‘I know all about the island.’ Silver replied. ‘And the deal you’re planning to make with the Americans.’ He dug in his coat pocket and took out a pipe and tobacco pouch, making his preparations as he spoke. ‘You know about the letter and our deal with the Americans?’

‘Yes.’ Ross confirmed. ‘Which is why this enterprise will be mutually beneficial. I’ve even put the ship’s bill of sale in both names. It gives Jim legitimacy.’

‘It does and it is appreciated.’ Silver replied. ‘I am assuming that you are both going to have something in writing that gives the other the other half of the island and the ship in the event of your deaths?’

‘We will.’ Ross nodded. ‘I shall take Jim with me to see Trelawney tomorrow.’ He gave Silver a wry smile. ‘Unfortunately I have been confined for the past three days which is why I did not come to see the ship earlier.’

‘Yes, I know.’ Silver’s tone was dry and his eyes flicked to Jim and back, but it was enough to make Jim’s cheeks go pink and that tickled Ross enormously. ‘Jim told me you’re spent most of your time in bed.’ Now the tone was knowing and Ross realised that he was obviously aware of just what had transpired between the two of them. Silver’s words caused a general snicker from the others and they were all on the receiving end of a ferocious glare from Jim but it didn’t quite them. Ross decided that any admission on his part would just add fuel to the fire and kept quiet. 

‘Come now, John.’ Mary laughed. ‘If you keep on, Jim’s going to throw himself overboard.’ She gave Jim an arch look. ‘You know how dramatic he is.’

‘Christ.’ Jim huffed, and the folded arms and defensiveness were back. ‘This is ridiculous.’

‘I would think that you’re too old to be embarrassed.’ Silver retorted and then turned back to Ross. ‘Now, we need to talk about this other business. The more explosive kind of business, if you take my meaning.’

‘I do.’ Ross couldn’t decide whether he should hide any of the pertinent details. Silver seemed trustworthy and forthright, but then he was also a pirate captain and they didn’t hold onto power without being a least a little duplicitous.

Silver seemed to read his mind and then chuckled.

'You’re among like-minded fellows here, Ross.’ His black eyes glinted. ‘I have no love for the Company. Jim has no doubt told you why.’

‘Then you no doubt also know about my unfortunate trip.’ Ross replied. ‘And what cargo the ship I was on was carrying.’

‘Yes.’ Silver took a puff on his pipe. ‘But that is past. What I am interested in is the present and taking those bastards down as far as I can. Now what exactly do you have planned?'

‘Other than the idea, nothing.’ Ross replied. ‘I don’t have the men needed to come up with something workable.’

‘That is where we come in then.’ Silver nodded at Billy. ‘That’s your man, Ross. He’ll find every cut-throated bastard from here to Dover for you. But they’ll need paying if they are to come aboard.’

‘That I can do.’ Ross assured him. ‘Funds are not a problem. But I want men who will be able to be trusted, as far as that goes. I cannot afford to end up at the end of a rope because someone couldn’t keep their mouth shut.’

‘That shan’t be a problem.’ Billy replied. ‘They’ll abide by the code.’ He spat on the deck after he said it and to Ross’ great surprise, so did everyone else. 

‘In that case, I’ll need as many as you can find.’ Ross looked at Silver. ‘How many do you need for crew?’

‘Enough to sail her as far as the Keys.’ Silver replied. ‘Once we’re there, there are others we can call on. These are dangerous times for those who make their living on the sea in the Service. There are many deserters who will gladly join our cause and there will be others of our ilk as well. To begin with let’s say thirty men.’

‘Then find them.’ Ross said to Billy. ‘And I will pay them.’ He held out a hand. ‘We are in agreement then?’

‘Aye.’ Silver handed his pipe to Billy and spat into his palm and held his own hand out. 

Ross glanced up at Jim and got another nod and a small smile. He did the same and then took Silver’s hand. The grip was like iron. He looked up and met black eyes that were just as unresisting and knew that here was a man who was a force to be reckoned with. A strange feeling wine through him and Ross frowned, but before he could say anything Silver let go of his hand and broke the look. 

‘You have a list.’ He nodded at Ben. ‘Ben has told you what the ship needs?’

‘Canvas, rope, wood, nails and supplies.’ Ross replied. ‘I will take care of the costs. All he needs to do is present invoices to Trelawney.’ 

Silver glanced at Ben, who nodded. 

‘Very good.’ He got up. ‘And when the other is done, we shall send word with Demelza. Then we can have another conversation.’ 

‘I look forward to it.’ Ross did the same. ‘I shall return to the house this evening, but I shall be back to check on our progress in the morning.’ He inclined his head to Silver. ‘Captain.’

‘Aye, Mr Poldark.’ Silver smiled and it was sharp. He looked at the others and they fell into step behind him as they went to the gangway to go below decks, Mary and Demelza gave Ross a smile as they went past hand in hand. 

That left Jim. He stood and regarded Ross with that odd little smile of his that made his dimples flicker in and out. 

‘Looks like you’re one of us now.’ he said. 

Ross grimaced and wiped his hand on his trousers. 

‘Bloody pirates.’ he muttered, then glanced at Jim. ‘You’re not going with them?’

‘I don’t know.’ Jim replied, a hint of suggestion in his voice. ‘I was waiting to see if I got a better offer.’

Ross smiled at him and took the three steps that brought him to stand at Jim’s feet. Jim stared back at him, blue-green eyes lit up by the dying sunlight. 

‘And what kind of offer did you have in mind, Mr Hawkins?’ Ross asked and saw those sea-water eyes flash at him. 

‘Anything you’d want to give, Mr Poldark.’ he replied and Ross felt the heat surge in his chest. 

‘Then I suggest we leave this ship and go home.’ he said.

*********

They barely made it through the front door of Nampara, discarding hats and greatcoats as they went. Ross got Jim by the lapels of his coat and wrestled it off as he kissed him frantically. Jim kissed back with equal fervour, hands tangled in Ross’ hair. They hit the wall, the sudden jolt making Ross inhale sharply from the pain. He ignored it, not letting go as he pinned Jim to the hard surface behind him and got one knee between his legs. Jim gasped and wrapped both arms around his neck, hanging on and fighting back with everything he had. It grew feverish, the kiss turning open-mouthed as they started panting and pulling at the rest of their clothing which now seemed like a terrible impediment to them both. 

A low chuckle startled them both and they broke apart, their faces a picture as they saw Dwight leaning in the doorway. He was smiling like the cat that caught the canary, or in his case a man having his all theories proven correct. 

‘Well, don’t let me stop you.’ he laughed. ‘You two look like you’re getting along famously.’

‘Bloody hell.’ Ross muttered. He gave Dwight a filthy look over his shoulder. ‘You have the most appalling timing.’

‘As far as I can tell, I am just in time to witness a most wonderful event.’ His laugh was perilously close to a cackle. ‘And to say I told you so.’

With that he turned around and walked back into the parlour. 

Ross turned back and saw that Jim was grinning.

‘I suppose you think this is an amusing turn of events.’ he snorted and Jim leaned forward and gave him the gentlest of kisses, his mouth lingering far longer than strictly necessary.

‘I do.’ he replied, then disentangled himself and followed Dwight. 

‘Fuck.’ Ross kicked at the floorboards and then got an inquisitive whine from the stairs. He looked over and saw Black Dog sitting on the steps, her ears pricked. He went to her and her tail thumped against the wood as he sat down and she pressed into his side. He sighed and stroked her head and she looked up at him with limpid brown eyes.

‘I know girl.’ he said, smiling as he heard Dwight and Jim laugh in the parlour. ‘How the blazes did this all happen?’


	22. Alliances and Allegiances

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everything starts to come together...

Dinner was an extremely informal affair. They were all gathered around the table while Dwight told them about Caroline’s proposition.

‘A week from now?’ Ross looked at Jim across the table. ‘Will that be enough time?’

‘It should.’ Jim replied. ‘Billy is very good at finding people and there are others we know who will be glad to come with us.’

‘The question is how to get in.’ Dwight pointed out. ‘Won’t the warehouse be heavily guarded?’

‘It has one main guard room and the bulk of the troops will be in there.’ Ross explained. ‘What we will need is a wagon and a diversion.’

‘The wagon part is easy.’ Jim grinned. ‘And I think I might have the perfect diversion.’

‘Really?’ Dwight handed down a crust to the slavering Black Dog who was ensconced at his feet because she knew he was the weakest link in the chain. ‘What did you have in mind?’

‘In my experience, soldiers like two things.’ Jim looked at Ross for confirmation and got a nod. 

‘Drink and whores.’ He smiled at Jim. ‘Mary?’

‘And her girls.’ Jim confirmed. ‘All of whom have been well schooled. They won’t know what hit them.’

‘Hang about.’ Dwight looked a little green. ‘Are you talking about killing them? Won’t that get you into serious trouble?’

‘Of course.’ Jim nodded. ‘But you don’t leave anyone alive. That’s the easiest way to get hanged.’

‘That’s a little…reckless, isn’t it?’ Dwight asked and Jim and Ross exchanged looks and snorted with laughter. 

‘You’re going to have to get used to it.’ Ross leaned over for the bottle and refilled his glass. 

‘Mary and the girls can get in and clear them out for us.’ Jim said. ‘Then the wagon goes in and the men can remove the perimeter guards, pick up the saltpetre and off they go.’

‘Straight to the mill.’ Ross added. ‘Then you can get started. The quicker we can get this done, the better.’

‘It will still take eight weeks.’ Dwight warned. ‘You’ll need to keep your heads down during that time.’

‘Plenty to do aboard the ship.’ Jim replied. ‘Speaking of which, can I suggest that we start moving anything you wish to take with you this week.’

‘There’s not much here I want.’ Ross shrugged. ‘Maybe some of the things from upstairs. Apart from that nothing.’ He made the next words as casual as possible. ‘You could of course take any of the books you want. I have no need for them.’

His words seemed to surprise Jim and for a moment he looked at a loss for words. 

‘Thank you.’ he said eventually. 

‘It’s nothing.’ Ross got up. ‘Like I said, I have no need for them. Someone might as well get some use out of them.’

He left the kitchen and they watched him go. Once he’d gone downstairs, Dwight grinned at Jim. 

‘So I go away for one night…’ He let the sentence hang. 

‘Do not start.’ Jim narrowed his eyes at him. ‘Or I will start asking questions about just what a high born lady was doing in your mill in the small hours of the morning.’

‘Not what you’re thinking.’ Dwight retorted. ‘I have some self-restraint.’

‘Bollocks.’ Jim replied cheerfully. ‘You’re about as moral as an alley cat. I know your type. Christ knows I’ve fucked enough of them.’ His eyes sparkled. ‘You’re falling in love with her.’

‘It’s hard not to.’ Dwight sighed happily and leaned back in his chair. ‘She’s magnificent. You know she cut the throat of the Company man they sent to spy on me?’

‘No, I did not.’ Jim laughed. ‘But it doesn’t surprise me at all. What did you do with him?’

‘He’s currently residing at the bottom of the mill pond.’ Dwight chuckled and poured himself more brandy. ‘His horse came in useful though, and I have returned the other to the ostler. He also had a fine pair of boots.’ He stuck one on the table for emphasis. ‘Waste not, want not.’

‘Very true.’ Jim laughed. ‘Now tell me about this assistant thing.’

‘Very simple really.’ Dwight replied. ‘I shall do a few rather showy things and simply require you to stand around and pass me jars.’

‘I think I can manage that.’ Jim smiled and drank. 

The sound of footsteps made them turn around as Ross came back in with another bottle in hand. He sat back down and uncorked it.

‘Dwight was just telling me what I’ll be in for.’ Jim handed his glass over to Ross. ‘It all sounds very exciting.’

‘Well with our combined dramatic flair, we should be able to keep all eyes on us.’ Dwight said. ‘The perfect way to make sure that we are not tied to what will happen.’

‘The Company will no doubt come sniffing anyway.’ Ross snorted. ‘Bastards.’

‘So long as they can’t connect us directly, they’ll have no recourse to arrest us.’ Jim replied. ‘We just have to make sure we cover our tracks and I trust Silver to do that. This won’t be the first place he’s broken into.’

‘Good.’ Ross leaned back in his seat. ‘I feel better knowing that he’ll be running things. Tomorrow I suggest that we take a ride to Trelawney’s offices and set things down on paper. Just to be on the safe side.’

‘Are you sure about this?’ Jim asked. ‘That you want me to have it?’

‘Yes.’ Ross nodded for emphasis. ‘Now that this is all coming together, it would be stupidity for something to derail it. Besides, I want Francis to have nothing to fall back on that he could hand over to Warleggan.’

‘Very well.’ Jim agreed. ‘I shall do the same. But I do have one stipulation. If something should happen to me, then I want Silver to have the Hispaniola.’

‘That is something I can agree to.’ Ross said. ‘I have no plans to go anywhere once I get where I need to.’

‘Even if you did, he would help you.’ Jim replied. ‘He would honour any agreement I asked of him.’

Ross looked at him steadily. 

‘He seemed a little unsure of me today.’ he remarked and saw that guarded look in Jim’s eyes again.

‘He doesn’t know you.’ Jim explained. ‘And he doesn’t trust easily.’

‘You trust me.’ Ross replied and now he could see the inner conflict in the way Jim’s mouth quirked. 

‘I do.’ He sighed. ‘God only knows why.’

‘Because you’re both thoroughly disreputable.’ Dwight chimed in. ‘Honour amongst thieves and all that guff.’

‘True.’ Jim conceded. ‘At least the disreputable part.’

‘So we wait for everyone to turn up and then we make our move.’ Dwight looked thoughtful. ‘And in the meantime we just act like nothing’s afoot?’

‘Exactly.’ Ross said. 

*********

They talked late into the night and finished the bottle before they all admitted defeat and decided to go to bed. Dwight stumbled up first, accompanied by Black Dog. He waved them off and went into his room, shutting the door. 

Ross found himself standing waiting a little awkwardly. He wanted to ask Jim to come up with him, but he was also reticent. Inviting Jim into his bed seemed to be like it would make it impossible to take it all back. 

Jim got to the top of the stairs and then hesitated. 

‘I should go to bed.’ He looked pointedly at Joshua’s door. 

‘You should.’ Ross replied, not moving. 

Jim stared at him and Ross met his eyes, unwavering. 

‘We could just stay up and talk some more or play chess again if you wish.’ he suggested. ‘We wouldn’t have to…’

The sentence got cut off by Jim walking over and kissing him hard on the mouth. 

‘No.’ His eyes were fever bright when he pulled back from him. ‘You and I both know it’s gone beyond that point.’

Ross looked at him, his eyes dropping to Jim’s mouth as all sorts of ideas flooded his brain. 

‘Then shall we go up?’ he asked. Jim’s mouth quirked.

‘I don’t know if your injury is going to hold out another night.’ He moved in another step and now they were so close that Ross could simply wrap an arm around him and pull Jim against him, so he did and Jim let out a soft breath as he came with no resistance. 

‘Come to bed with me.’ Ross nosed his cheek and breathed the words into his skin. 

‘Aren’t you afraid that this might become a habit?’ Jim sighed back at him, his arms coming up to wrap around Ross’ neck. 

‘Too late.’ Ross smiled and was about to kiss him when Dwight’s door flew open. 

‘For Christ’s sake, go upstairs and fuck and stop prattling outside my bloody door.’ he complained, promptly shutting it again. 

Jim and Ross looked at the door and then at each other, then burst out laughing. 

‘He has a point.’ Ross said. ‘I can’t very well fuck you out here.’

‘No, you can’t.’ Jim laughed and ran up the stairs ahead of him.

**********

Breakfast was eaten at the kitchen table with a great deal of meaningful eye contact and grumbling from Dwight at their behaviour. Afterwards they saddled the horses and set off for Wapping. 

Trelawney’s offices were crowded and busy when they rode into the yard. They dismounted and handed off the horses and made their way inside the offices. An attendant took their names and disappeared upstairs, only to come down a few moments later and instruct them that Trelawney was waiting to see them. 

His office was at the top of the stairs behind a well-polished door and he held it open, waiting for them to come in and offering them coffee which they both refused. He moved to take a seat behind the massive desk he occupied and then gave them both a look full of curiosity. 

‘This is a sight more civil than our last conversation.’ he remarked. ‘You two seem positively amicable.’ 

Jim and Ross gave each other a quick glance and kept straight faces, but they were both thinking back to only a few short hours before that had seen them being extremely amicable indeed. 

‘Now.’ Trelawney made himself comfortable. ‘What can I do for you gentlemen?’

‘We need an agreement drawn up.’ Ross instructed. ‘Something to ensure that should anything happen to either of us that the other will take control of the assets that we share. Jim and I have agreed on this matter and feel it to be the most suitable solution should we die on this endeavour.’

‘Dear me.’ Trelawney’s eyes were twinkling. ‘Are you planning on dying anytime soon?’

‘Hopefully not.’ Jim replied. ‘But you can never be too careful.’

‘Indeed.’ Trelawney agreed. ‘Especially with the kinds of enemies you two have made. He chuckled. ‘The entirety of the docklands is alive with rumour and speculation as to how you have both managed to inflame the ill will of the Company.’

‘All of which is entirely unfounded.’ Ross protested. ‘All we’ve done is refuse to be blackmailed by them and bought a ship.’

‘I’m sure.’ Trelawney’s face was split in a smile. ‘I feel it my duty to point out though that that innocent expression did not wash with me when your father used it and it doesn’t now. Not only that but you bought a ship with an interesting history.'

‘Did I?’ Ross decided to play ignorant and now Trelawney looked at Jim. 

‘Maybe you should ask Mr Hawkins.’ He grinned. ‘I have heard that he has a long acquaintance with this particular vessel.’

‘How the hell…?’ Jim looked astounded and then concerned but Trelawney lifted a hand.

‘I do my investigation thoroughly.’ he said. ‘And while the Company still has no idea who you really are, I would caution you both to keep your heads down.’

‘I have no idea what you’re alluding to.’ Jim said with a perfectly straight face and Ross smiled at the blatant lie. ‘And as for the ship, I have very little experience in that area.’

‘My mistake then.’ Trelawney looked extremely amused. He reached for a piece of paper. ‘Now what exactly did you have in mind with regards to this agreement of yours?’

‘That if I die, my assets are to go to Jim and likewise if the reverse should happen.’ Ross explained. ‘Jim’s share of the island will revert to me, but in the event of his death his share of the Hispaniola will become the property of a Mr John Silver of Tobago. And in the event of both of us being killed, then the ship becomes entirely his and the island becomes the property of the newly formed government of the United States.’ 

Trelawney stopped writing and looked up at him in astonishment. 

‘Oh my.’ He went back to his scribbling. ‘Francis is not going to like that.’

‘I do not care a whit for what Francis may or may not like.’ Ross’ voice was sharp. ‘He can go hang.’

‘This is the decision that Ross and I feel best serves our mutual interests.’ Jim interjected. 

‘Very well.’ Trelawney said. ‘I shall require both of your to sign the finished document, but I shall send word when it is done.’ He laid down his pen. ‘Is there anything else to be done?’

‘The Hispaniola is to be resupplied this week and equipped for our voyage.’ Ross replied. ‘I have directed the captain to inform the merchants that all invoices are to be sent here. Please see to them.’ He reached into his pocket and three stones were placed on the desk. They were immediately swept up and stowed in Trelawney’s safe box. 

‘When are you planning to depart?’ he asked and Ross looked at Jim. 

‘In about two months’ time.’ he replied. ‘We’ll be crossing to America first and then going from there. However, we would like everything to be in order as soon as possible.’

‘Of course.’ Trelawney smiled at him. ‘I shall see to it immediately.’

He got up as they rose and said their goodbyes, then left the office. As they went downstairs, Ross threw Jim a sidelong look. 

‘How many people know about you?’ he asked. 

‘None as far as I know.’ Jim replied. ‘I haven’t the faintest idea how he found out.’

‘He’s a sly old dog.’ Ross chuckled. ‘My father used to say that he was the cleverest man he knew and that was saying something.’

‘So do you think this little ruse of yours is going to work?’ Jim followed him out into the yard. 

‘We’ll see.’ Ross went to take Bathsheba from the rail where he’d tied her. ‘At the end of business today, I have no doubt someone will take this news to the Warleggans.’

‘Which is just what you want.’ Jim laughed, pulling himself onto Gunpowder’s back. 

‘It’s going to seriously annoy them.’ Ross felt a surge of satisfaction. He got onto Bathsheba and settled into the saddle. ‘And maybe Unwin will be able to tell us who our rat is.’

‘Are we planning on paying him a visit?’ Jim had a wicked sparkle in his eyes. ‘Maybe I can get you to jump out another window with me.’ 

‘Not bloody likely.’ Ross retorted. 

They rode back to the house, going into the yard where they dismounted and stabled the horses. Ross followed Jim inside and saw Dwight at the table. He was working on something, his notebook full of new scribbles. 

‘Ah, the intrepid adventurers return.’ He gave them a cheerful grin. ‘Was your visit to Mssr Trelawney a productive one?’

‘Very.’ Ross said. He watched as Jim walked past. ‘Where are you going?’

‘To pack.’ Jim grinned. ‘I need to keep an eye on things and so I shall be going back and forth no doubt.’ His blue-green eyes sparkled. ‘And I can always sleep in your bed when I am here.’ He looked completely unrepentant at leaving Ross standing with his mouth open and left the kitchen.

Dwight looked at Ross with his eyebrows raised. 

‘Not a bloody word.’ Ross hung up his coat and sat down at the table. ‘What are you doing?’

‘Making sure that the ball will be thoroughly hypnotised.’ Dwight replied. ‘Caroline sent word today to say that they are happy to engage me for their evening’ entertainment.’

‘Good news then.’ Ross thought about his promise to Christopher. ‘And most fortuitous.’ He peered at the notations in Dwight’s book. ‘Do I want to even know what you’re busy cooking up?’

‘No.’ Dwight laughed. ‘It will ruin the surprise.’

There was the sound of clattering from overhead and they both looked at the ceiling. 

‘What the bloody hell is he doing up there?’ Ross frowned and Dwight laughed. 

‘I imagine that Jim moving between here and the ship is going to put a dampener on your nocturnal activities.’ He waggled his eyebrows at Ross and Ross heaved a sigh and resigned himself to an afternoon of mockery.

***********

Along the river, Billy went from skiff to skiff as he made his way to the dock. He climbed up and made his way along, dodging the people. His short stature meant he could weave between them easily and he kept his eyes peeled for the people he was seeking. 

He found them at the water’s edge, a tall woman with a stern face and black hair to match her eyes and set off her warm skin. She was from the Caribbean, a product of her indigenous father and African mother, and her beauty had inspired songs from the Antilles to Jamaica and was second only to her ferocity. The man next to her was windburnt and well built. His auburn hair, pale freckled skin and blue-grey eyes identified him as a native of Scotland before he even opened his mouth. 

Billy made his way to them and they saw him and greeted him warmly. 

‘You’re needed.’ he said to them once they were sitting in the dockside tavern. ‘Silver has the Hispaniola back.’

‘That’s not the way we heard it.’ The man grinned. ‘We heard it was bought by some rich man from the city.’ 

‘Ross is a decent man.’ Billy lifted his mug and drank. ‘And young Jim has him in hand.’

‘In hand?’ The woman looked at the man and smiled. ‘Does that mean what I think it means?’

‘It’s Jim.’ Billy chuckled. ‘What do you think?’ He looked at them. ‘So does that mean you are joining us?’

‘What do you think, Flint?’ The woman was smiling. ‘It would be good to get back to sea.’

‘Aye, Anne it would.’ Flint looked thoughtful. ‘Since we got back, it’s been dreadfully lacking in entertainment. Tell us about this little jaunt of his.’ 

‘We’re headed west.’ Billy said. ‘To the north Pacific.’

‘That’s American territory.’ Anne raised a beautifully curved eyebrow at him. ‘This have anything to do with that very valuable piece of paper John holds?’

‘Some.’ Billy replied. ‘We’ll be well out of the way of those bastards at the Company.’ They all snorted derisively and spat on the ground. 

‘We’ve been marooned on this bloody island for too long.’ Anne said. ‘I am getting fat from inactivity.’ She chuckled and drank her ale. ‘I long to swing a cutlass again. Here I am consigned to the bloody fish sheds.’

‘The best disguise is one no-one would suspect us of taking.’ Flint sighed. ‘We have all been playing at it.’ He looked at Billy. ‘Tell Silver we shall be there directly. There are some of our men who will also gladly join us.’

‘And they will be welcome.’ Billy looked around him. ‘We need those we can trust. There is a plan afoot. I can smell it.’

‘Now that’s just what I needed to hear.’ Anne declared. 

*********

Ross stood and leaned in the doorway of Joshua’s room.

‘You have to go tonight?’ He was trying to hide his disappointment. 

‘I told Silver I would be on hand to help him.’ Jim had the trunk now packed and ready to go. He also had a package of books bound up and sitting on top of it. ‘I’ll be back tomorrow.’ His smile was teasing. ‘I am sure you’ll find some way to occupy yourself this evening. Perhaps you and Dwight could play cards?’

‘I’d rather occupy myself with you.’ Ross grumbled. He folded his arms and glared at Jim. ‘Why you?’

‘Because I am her lieutenant, Ross.’ Jim pointed out. ‘I need to be there to help Silver oversee things. Just because I am currently in your bed, does not mean my allegiance is to you. He’s my captain and his claim on my time is more pressing than yours.’

‘Bollocks to that.’ Ross snorted. He heaved a sigh when Jim nodded at the trunk and then went to help him carry it. 

They got it downstairs and Jim flagged down a passing wagon and enquired as to the river’s destination. A few coins were exchanged and he and Ross heaved the trunk onto the back, followed by him. 

‘Tomorrow then.’ he called as the cart rolled away and Ross watched him until the cart rounded the corner and disappeared from sight. 

‘You know I think you’re more in love with him than I am with Caroline.’ Dwight’s voice at his ear made Ross jump. 

‘Christ.’ he muttered. ‘Let’s fucking hope not.’ He stomped past Dwight back to the house, ignoring the laughter that followed him. 

**********

It was dark when the final lights went out at Trelawney’s offices and everyone left for the evening. 

The young clerk waited until he was sure everyone had gone and then left the yard. He had an appointment with a certain person that he was anxious to keep. He strode down the street with purpose, and in his haste he did not notice the shadow that detached itself from the building across the street and followed him. 

The young man kept his head down as he crossed three roads and made his way to the point of assignation. He did not wish to be seen anywhere near the offices of the Company, and so had agreed to meeting Warleggan in his carriage in one of the smaller squares not too far from the offices. 

It was waiting for him when he arrived and he wasted no time in approaching. The driver was standing at his horse’s side and he opened the door for the clerk to climb in. Inside, George Warleggan was waiting. 

‘You have news?’ he asked and the clerk nodded as he sat down. 

‘They were there today.’ he confirmed. ‘They met with Trelawney.’

‘And?’ George had little patience and levelled an expectant look at the man. 

‘They had a document drawn up that gives each of them the other’s assets in the event of their deaths.’ The clerk shook a little. He knew that the information he had would displease the man whose pay he accepted. 

‘Clever.’ George said, toying with his cane. ‘What else?’

‘In the event of both their deaths, the ship becomes the property of a man named Silver and the island…’ The clerk trailed off, reluctant to continue.

‘The island is all that interests me.’ George said, his voice icy. ‘Continue.’

‘The island will be transferred into the hands of the Americans.’ The clerk couldn’t meet the pale blue eyes boring into him. 

‘Those bastards.’ George hissed. ‘Those fucking bastards.’ He looked enraged. ‘Get out.’

‘But…’ The clerk was both terrified of staying and enduring further wrath but he had yet to receive his money. 

‘Out!’ George bellowed. 

The terrified clerk stumbled from the carriage and flinched as George hurled a handful of coins at him. The door slammed shut and it rumbled off, leaving the man alone in the square. In the city, there was little to keep men after hours. He muttered as he picked the coins up off the ground, then started to walk back the way he’d come. 

The shadow moved with him, almost completely silent as it stalked him through the darkened streets. 

The clerk got to an alley and turned off, a shortcut to the building that he had rooms in. About halfway down though, he felt the hairs prickle on the back of his neck and turned.

The attack was brutally swift, a quick movement to grab him by the back of his neck before the blade in the shadow’s hand sliced through his throat. He tried to cry out, but his windpipe had been severed and nothing came out. He grabbed at the shadow’s clothes, his eyes staring as he was laid gently to the ground. Blood pooled around him, staining the cobbles black in the moonlight. 

The shadow straightened up, sheathing the knife. 

‘No more tales for you.’ he remarked and regarded the man as he lay dying. ‘Next time you need to pick your allegiances more carefully.’ 

The clerk looked back up at the face above him, recognising the man who’d been at Trelawney’s office. It was the young one that Trelawney had said was an actor, but now the clerk was starting to realise that maybe that was not all he was. Sadly, his revelation lasted only a minute as death overtook him and he went limp. 

Jim stepped over him, taking care not to get blood on his boots. He walked down the alley to its end and melted into the night, leaving no sign at all that he’d even been there.


	23. An Assessment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning of the ball...

The week quickly fell into a routine that saw Jim back at the theatre at night and on the ship during the day. Ross usually joined him in the morning to get an update from Silver as the progress with their preparations before he and Dwight made the rounds of victuallers and other merchants to stock the ship with the provisions they would need. Silver furnished him with a list of supplies for the crew. Ben did his job, laying in all the things that they would need to keep the Hispaniola in good repair on their voyage and men came aboard in a steady trickle. Silver held a list of articles that he and Ross both signed and which each man would make his mark on if he was accepted for service aboard the ship.

At night he was back in the house with Dwight. Jud had returned on the Monday, leaving Prudie behind to take care of her mother’s house and sort things with her sisters. He had torn a strip off them both for the state the kitchen was in and grumbled about Black Dog being allowed to sleep on the parlour sofa and then Ross had heard him and Dwight cackling in the kitchen and knew that Jud had now been updated as to the current status quo. 

It didn’t help matters that Jim had come back from the theatre on the Tuesday night in the early hours of the morning and come straight up to the attic, shedding his clothes as he came in the door until he climbed into Ross’ bed, already hard and with the wickedest of intentions that saw them both getting close to no sleep at all. That of course meant that Jud’s morning visit with Ross’ breakfast had found them both naked and sprawled all over each other. He’d snorted and dumped the tray on the table and then grumbled about having to make another plate before he plodded off. 

That night had been repeated every night since then and it was always the same. Jim returned with traces of greasepaint on his skin and wine on his breath, his kisses inflaming the passion between them until Ross felt as if he was being burned alive. It was like nothing he had ever felt before, and he still wasn’t sure if it was something he should be fighting against. 

Instead he drowned himself in it, took those fiery kisses and returned them with equal fervour. He took everything Jim gave him, worshipped every inch of him until he could have recognised him simply by touch and smell and taste. Jim fight back against him, taking just as much and demanding more. It was intoxicating and Ross knew that he was dangerously close to becoming obsessed. Elizabeth had never held him like this, but then she had also never given him back even a tenth of what he’d felt and in that way her and Jim were completely opposite to each other. 

He rolled over and looked at the man next to him. Jim was on his side as he customarily slept, back to him. Ross lifted a hand and traced the freckles on his shoulder, drawing constellations with his fingertips. Jim sighed softly and turned over onto his back. The sun caught his thick eyelashes and made him look like an angel, his blond curls gilded by the light. He smiled at Ross, dimples caving in and Ross returned it. He had found himself smiling a lot this week. 

‘Good morning.’ He lay back down and ran his fingertip over Jim’s mouth, thinking back to the darkness and the feel of it on his skin. 

‘You’re awake early.’ Jim’s voice was hoarse and Ross felt a little thrill knowing it was not just sleep that had caused it. After his initial shock, he’d become quite a proponent of the American trick Jim had learned on his travels. 

‘Are you going to the ship today?’ he asked and Jim nodded. 

‘For a few hours.’ He stretched, the indolence of the action making Ross want to pin him down and do things to him. He moved in closer and Jim’s eyes glowed, the smile changing from lazy to suggestive. 

He came in closer and his smooth skin warmed Ross right through. He’d discovered that Jim ran hot, like having a bed warmer of his own, and he pulled Jim over on top of him, luxuriating in the feel of Jim’s cock against his, velvety soft and hardening steadily. He laid a hand to the side of Jim’s neck and pulled him in, kissing him long and deep. Jim kissed back, one hand on Ross’ chest. He pulled back and looked at him, his eyes dancing. 

‘We don’t have to go yet.’ He moved onto his knees, straddling Ross and then leaning down to kiss him again. He licked slowly through Ross’ mouth, fingers combing through the hair on Ross’ chest to find his nipples and working over them in circles. 

Ross moaned and arched up into his touches, letting himself melt into the warm feeling building in his belly. He reached down, one hand encircling them both and stroking up. Jim hissed through his teeth and the kiss this time was biting. His hips were making little jerks that made the friction between their cocks more intense and Ross moved his fingers to his mouth, wetting them before reaching around Jim’s body, dipping down and in. Jim leaned forward enough to allow him access and Ross slid his fingers home, Jim’s body loose from their last time only a few hours before. Inside he was still wet and Ross pressed his fingers up against the place inside him that drove Jim to whine and spread his legs like a docklands whore. 

Jim caught his lower lip between his teeth and moaned. He looked down at Ross, curls hanging about his face, and hitched his hips back and forth, thrusting forward into Ross’ grip and then back onto his fingers as Ross worked him open. Ross watched him, mesmerised by the play of emotion across his face and the way he panted. He drove in harder and Jim cried out once, rocking back in his need to get Ross’ fingers deeper inside him. Eventually he decided he’d had enough, pulling Ross’ hands away and moving to take his cock before steadying it and guiding it into him as he moved down, impaling himself and lowering until Ross was all the way inside him. He braced himself with both hands and started to move, rising and falling gracefully as he rode Ross into a state of near oblivion.

'Look at you.’ Ross panted. He smoothed his hands down Jim’s chest and stomach, then grasped his hips and guided his movements. ‘You are surely the most beautiful creature that has ever graced my bed.’

Jim laughed, his head tipping back as his face grew almost pained. He was bucking against Ross now, the urgency of his movements driving them both on. 

‘And you are a silver tongued devil.’ He looked down, pupils blown wide in pleasure. ‘Although I think it might be your cock that I appreciate the most.’

Ross laughed in reply and gripped him harder, fingers digging in. He planted his feet to the bed and thrust up into Jim’s body, making him cry out again as he reached back to brace himself against Ross’ thighs. He quickened his pace and Ross arched up into him, his own cries now every bit as loud as Jim’s. He wrapped both arms around him, pulling Jim down to him so their mouths met, the kiss wet and messy as they licked at each other with little care for propriety. He started to drive in as hard as he could and Jim began to moan continuously as he was jostled, every hit making him shudder. 

‘God, Ross…’ He could barely speak. ‘Fuck me harder.’ 

Ross tightened his grip, using his strength to wrestle Jim over onto his back. He got his legs over his elbows and started to drive in hard, seeing how Jim’s skin was now sheened with sweat and his curls damp with exertion. 

‘Say it again.’ he hissed. ‘Tell me…’ He looked down between them, watching his cock drive in and out of Jim’s body before he looked back up and their eyes locked. 

‘Only you.’ Jim knew what he wanted. ‘I only fuck you.’ He stared up at Ross, his eyes challenging. ‘It’s your cock I want inside me.’

Ross snarled at him and grabbed his hair in one hand. He ploughed into Jim with everything he had, the whole bed moving with the force of his thrusts, burying his face in Jim’s neck and tasting sweat and salt on his skin. There was a brief flash of pain as Jim raked his nails down his back and then it hit, white hot and enough to make Ross feel like he’d lost his mind. Underneath him Jim now had his own hand on himself. He shouted and came between them a few thrusts later, his body tightening convulsively around Ross’ cock and drawing his climax out until they were both breathless with it. 

‘Christ.’ Jim was the first to speak. ‘I am not going to be able to walk after this.’

Ross started laughing, muffled by Jim’s skin. 

‘You are solely to blame.’ He lifted his head and looked into the blue-green. ‘You have completely bewitched me.’

‘Perhaps.’ Jim replied, smiling at him and leaning up to kiss him gently on the mouth. ‘Or maybe it is I who has been bewitched.’

That gave Ross an uncomfortable little twinge. He knew he was hiding and he also knew that sooner or later, Jim would have to find out. He could only hope that he wouldn’t take it too badly. 

He eased out and fell down on his back next to him and Jim rolled onto his side, pillowing his head on Ross’ shoulder and one hand coming up to toy with the hair on his chest.

‘We really should get up.’ he murmured and kissed Ross’ ear. ‘There are things to be done and we also have to prepare for this evening.’

‘Aye.’ Ross wrapped an arm around Jim’s shoulders and looked at the ceiling. ‘Are you sure they have what they need.’ 

‘You leave that part to them.’ Jim assured him. ‘They know what to do.’ 

‘I hope so.’ Ross kissed the top of his head. ‘We have a lot depending on the success of this evening.’ 

‘It will be all right.’ Jim raised his head, eyes soft. ‘You worry too much.’

‘And you don’t worry enough.’ Ross countered. Jim smiled and then kissed him. 

‘Soon, you will have what you need and that will give me what I need.’ He licked a wet line over Ross’ mouth. ‘Now shut up and fuck me again.’

Ross snorted with laughter and rolled over so Jim was pinned underneath him. 

‘But of course.’ he replied. ‘Whatever you wish, my love.’ 

*********

In the hold of the Hispaniola, Silver and Mary oversaw the packing of their supplies. Mary was ticking things off on a list. 

‘The sailcloth, rope, nails and pitch are all aboard.’ She nodded at one of their new hands as he looked for conformation as to where to put the things he was holding. ‘We also now have twenty three hands aboard and there are still the coke, bedding and galley provisions to come.’ She looked over her list again. ‘We also need to make a decision regarding the armaments.’

‘Flint can take care of that. The men will provide their own small arms as is required.’ Silver said. ‘You see to the others and let me know what we need.’ He’d named Mary as Patrick’s replacement, knowing she ran a ship as well as her husband had. He gave her a sidelong look. ‘Tonight?’

‘My girls are ready.’ Mary smiled. ‘Their knives are well sharpened.’

‘We shall leave after midnight.’ Silver said, moving a little into a quieter part of the hold. Jim has procured a wagon with a pair of drays, which is currently in the warehouse. Ben and I shall go and fetch it, then take it with Flint and some of the others. Billy and Anne shall remain on the ship. Ten men to go with us to provide support.’

‘Aye.’ Mary nodded and left him. He heard her speaking to Flint as he came down to inspect what was going on. A few moments later, he appeared and came to Silver’s side. He and Mary had come aboard the night before with their sea chests and what few other belongings they had and were now occupying one of the senior rating’s cabins.

‘It’s good to be back.’ His grin was wolfish and Silver returned it. ‘I have missed the feel of a ship beneath my feet.’ 

Silver sympathised. Anne and Flint had barely escaped as they had from the relentless pursuit of the Company. Their ship, the Walrus, had not fared as well though. The Company had sunk her off the Canaries and they were lucky to be alive. Only the coins sewn into their clothes had kept them alive, buying them passage back to England where they had known he and the others were holed up. 

‘This is going to take some getting used to.’ Flint placed one hand to a beam. ‘She is not my lady.’

‘Neither is she mine.’ Silver pointed out. ‘But Ross seems reasonable enough and he has all but given me complete control. He is also paying without quibbling, which is a fine thing.’  
‘And you trust him?’ Flint asked and then frowned as he saw the look on Silver’s face. ‘John?’

‘AS much as I can.’ Silver replied. ‘There are some things I worry about, but Jim is assured of his commitment and he has yet to go back on his word.’

‘Then do not look so glum.’ Flint replied. ‘You have your ship back, you are getting away from England and will have nothing but the ocean before you. You will soon be back to hunting and making the Company’s life a misery.’

‘One would hope so.’ Silver chuckled. 

‘Captain?’ There was a call from above. ‘Jim’s here.’

‘Good.’ Silver started for the hatch and ascended to the deck above. He was nimble on his wooden leg, now so familiar that it was an extension of his own body and he was at ease as he climbed the gangway and came out onto the deck with Flint behind him. 

Jim and Ross had just come aboard and Silver watched his foster son carefully. He knew Jim inside and out and he could see how his light eyes were constantly fixed on Ross’ face and his smile came readily whenever Ross spoke to him. They saw him and Jim’s face lit up as he spotted Flint behind him. 

‘Flint!’ He left Ross’ side and came to him, throwing both arms around him. Flint laughed and hauled Jim right off the deck. 

‘Jim lad.’ He set him back down again and smiled at him. ‘I have not seen you for the better part of a year.’ He placed both hands to the sides of Jim’s neck. ‘You’ve grown a mite.’

‘I haven’t.’ Jim laughed in reply. He looked behind him. ‘Ross, come here.’

Silver hid his surprise at how Ross obeyed immediately. It seemed that perhaps Jim was not the only one who was taken with this arrangement. 

‘This is James McGraw.’ he said, coming forward and making the introduction. ‘He’s our new gunner and his wife is our new pilot.’

Ross greeted him and they shook hands. He turned to Silver. 

‘Mary is settling in well to her new role?’ he asked and Silver nodded.

‘Everything is progressing to schedule.’ he replied. ‘It’s just the vittles that we need to bring aboard but the closer we do that to our departure, the better.’ 

‘As you see fit.’ Ross said. ‘He looked around him at the men working on the deck. ‘Your new crew?’

‘Not all new.’ Silver corrected. ‘A good few from ships I served on before and all men who I have the measure of.’ He waited, knowing that Ross was keen to discuss other matters. ‘Shall we go below? Ben has finished fitting out the master’s cabin and I am sure you’ll wish to inspect it.’ 

He saw Ross look at Jim and Jim inclined his head ever so slightly. That heartened him, seeing how they looked to each other. He could not have brooked Jim loving a man who did not love him back and it seemed that this was the case here. 

‘After you, Captain.’ Ross gestured for Silver to take the lead and he did, walking to the rear of the ship and going inside the door. The master’s cabin and the captain’s cabin were placed on either side of the short corridor that terminated in the great cabin that performed as study and dining room. 

Ross’ cabin was finely appointed. His bunk was well sized and he gave it an approving look. Silver grinned, knowing he was sizing it up and considering just how well he and Jim would fit. Ben had made sure that the drawers and lockers were all lined in cedar to protect his clothes and that he had room for whatever else he might bring with. 

‘It’s good.’ He ran a hand over the frame of the door. ‘Far more comfortable than what I had the last time I was aboard ship.’

‘Well, you are her master.’ Silver replied. ‘Mine is such the same. The other senior crew sleep in the cabins below this deck and the hands will have the main deck for their home.’

He gave Ross a smile that had more than a hint of humour in it. ‘The bunk is particularly spacious. No doubt that shall come in handy if you choose to have a visitor.’

Ross stood and looked at him, not giving an inch. 

‘You disapprove.’ He tilted his head a little. ‘What is it you are not sure about?’

‘The magic.’ Silver said and the look of complete astonishment on Ross’ face confirmed everything he suspected. ‘You haven’t told Jim about that. You need to.’

‘What do you about it?’ Ross’ dark eyes were now fierce. 

‘I am more open that others to the idea.’ Silver replied. ‘And Demelza is a special child. I have told Jim that you have it around you, that its darkness makes me afraid.’

‘He knows?’ Ross frowned and he looked like he was putting two and two together. ‘That’s why he looks like he’s been hiding something.’

‘If you can see that, then you are doing well.’ Silver was impressed. ‘Jim is hard to read when he doesn’t want you to know things. He’s the best liar I have ever met.’

‘I can imagine that.’ Ross’ face changed, a wry little smile appearing. ‘But I think he doesn’t want to hide from me. That’s why I can see it.’

‘It’s not all that allows you to see, Ross.’ Silver knew he sounded stern, but he also knew this was a moment when they would only have this chance to trust each other. ‘You and I are both aware of what these mean.’ He reached out, his hand on Ross’ arm. 

Ross stared at him then looked toward the porthole. ‘You know the burden I carry then?’

‘Some, not all.’ Silver admitted. ‘The man I met didn’t live long enough to tell me what they meant. But I think that you are the same as Demelza.’

‘I am.’ Ross replied. ‘I see the dead and talk with them as I am talking with you now. Sometimes I know the future, but not often. And when I get the visions they are not always as accurate as I would like them to be.’ He snorted. ‘I knew my father was sick but the vision made it seem I would still have time when I arrived.’ 

‘What about this?’ Silver asked. ‘Did you foresee any of this?’

‘No.’ Now Ross smiled properly. ‘And I definitely didn’t factor him into my plans.’

The affection was clear in his voice and that gave Silver the clearest indication he’d had that maybe his fears were not as great as they might be. 

‘Jim has a habit of creeping into your heart.’ He smiled as a recollection of a feisty blond child came to mind. ‘When we met he’d just lost his father and I had no interest in being one. Somehow we ended up falling in together.’ 

‘He told me.’ Ross said. ‘About the captain of the ship and what he wanted Jim for.’

‘The very first night he called him in.’ Silver thought back and a swell of anger came up inside him. ‘Jim bit him trying to get away and the man hit him. I heard Jim screaming and broke my way in. That was a hanging offence back then.’ He chuckled. ‘Thankfully all I got was twelve strokes. The entire crew was mine in a fortnight and we took the ship.’  
‘You let Jim kill the man who hurt him.’ Ross turned and leaned against the bulkhead. 

‘I believe in vengeance, Ross.’ Silver stated. ‘So do you or you wouldn’t be going to so much trouble over an island.’

‘What did he do to him?’ Ross asked. 

‘Thankfully nothing.’ Silver said. ‘But it could have been anything. I have seen what captains do to their cabin boys. Some are treated little better than whores.’ He shook his head. ‘I did not want that to happen.’

‘Why not?’ Ross sounded curious. 

‘Maybe because when I broke into the cabin I saw a boy who had fought back.’ Silver grinned. ‘And it reminded me that it was time for me to do the same. I had lost my way for a few years and seeing Jim facing off against a grown man was enough to make me think about things.’ He chuckled. ‘You’ll learn that about him. He never knows when he’s outmatched.’ 

‘Is that you giving me your blessing?’ Ross had an eyebrow raised. Silver snorted with laughter. 

‘The other thing you’re going to have to learn is that as far as Jim is concerned, he does exactly as he wishes. Nobody tells him what to do.’ He moved forward and placed a hand on Ross’ shoulder. ‘And that includes me.’ 

***********  
‘What do you think they are talking about?’ Jim had a nail in his mouth. Mary laughed and leaned against the rail. 

‘Things that the master and captain of the ship should be talking about.’ She nudged him with her elbow. ‘John just wants a good look at him. He’s not quite ready to trust Ross yet.’

Jim sighed and looked up at Demelza in the rigging. She shot her mother a look and then moved higher. 

‘She’s staying with Anne and Billy.’ Mary said. ‘She’s furious with me for not allowing her to come along.’

‘It’s no work for a child.’ Jim replied. ‘And you are right to shield her as long as you can.’

‘You learned too young.’ Mary sighed and leaned on her elbows. ‘Just as I did.’

‘You did what you had to do.’ Jim moved to lean next to her. ‘And you and Pat did right by me, just like he did.’

‘This thing with Ross...’ Mary started and he glanced at her. ‘Just how complicated has it become?’

‘I don’t honestly know.’ Jim looked at the water. ‘He’s very different to everyone I’ve been with.’

‘That’s because you have feelings for him.’ Mary explained. ‘The others have all been something you needed to get something you wanted.’

‘He is that too.’ Jim pointed out. 

‘Maybe at the beginning.’ Mary corrected. ‘But not anymore. Be careful, Jim. If it goes wrong, it will mean more than losing just what we’ve worked for.’

She pushed away from the rail and left him to think about what she’d said. He was still staring at the water when someone moved in to lean on the rail next to him and he looked up and saw that Ross had a thoughtful expression. 

‘Your father is an interesting man.’ he remarked and Jim nodded. 

‘Has he finished threatening you?’ he grinned. ‘He can be overprotective.’

‘I realised that fairly quickly.’ Ross chuckled. ‘He’s extremely forthright, much like you.’

‘Not everything is inherited from one’s birth parents, Ross.’ Jim laughed. ‘Are your quarters to your liking?’

‘Very much so.’ Ross smiled, his dark eyes reflecting the light and turning amber. ‘I look forward to settling in.’ 

‘And then we are away.’ Jim’s eyes turned to the river again, looking to where the Thames led out to sea. 

‘I know you want to go as soon as possible.’ Ross brushed his fingers against his arm. ‘But we still have a little matter to attend to.’ 

‘They have everything in hand here.’ Jim lowered his voice. ‘The matter will be soon be concluded.’ 

‘Good.’ Ross looked at him. ‘I cannot deny that I am anxious to move forward.’

Jim looked at him, and their eyes locked, both of them searching for something in each other’s eyes.

‘As am I.’ he replied.


	24. The Ball

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ross has a confession to make...

The ball was set to begin at nine that evening, preceded by supper at eleven. Ross was dressed for the occasion. He was to be collected by Caroline en route, Dwight and Jim having already left to go to the Hamilton estate in Highgate. 

He adjusted his cuffs and looked up as Jud snickered. 

‘Them shoes are ridiculous.’ He nodded at the black flat shoes Ross wore, the only acceptable footwear for dancing. 

‘I am well aware of that.’ Ross grumbled. ‘But I must look the part.’

‘Why are you goin’ to this anyway?’ Jud gave him a suspicious look. ‘You hate these things.’

‘I do, but Caroline asked me very nicely.’ Ross replied, going to put on his greatcoat and get his hat.

‘So?’ Jud folded his arms. ‘You ain’t fucking her, you’re fucking that boy.’ He sounded slightly accusatory. 

‘Yes, thank you for pointing that out.’ Ross glared at him. ‘I’m sure if you shout it a little louder the whole dock will be only too happy to listen.’ He moved from the parlour to the hall, Jud in tow.

‘I am only sayin’ that this is very out of character.’ He helped Ross into his coat and handed him his hat. ‘That’s all.’

‘Well, I can be civilised for one night.’ Ross took the hat from him and opened the front door. ‘I’ll be back very late.’

‘Don’t bloody wake me then.’ Jud grumbled and shut the door behind him. 

**********

Jim stared around him, his eyes huge. 

‘I have never seen a place like this.’ He looked at Dwight, who was occupied with setting up his equipment on a worktable laid with white cloths that had been set up for his display. He gave the magnificently painted ceiling a cursory glance and went back to what he was doing. 

‘I must confess that is not really my field of expertise.’ He straitened up. ‘I would have preferred to do this outside. Now I am limited on what to present.’ 

‘Not tonight.’ Jim looked towards the floor to ceiling windows of the reception room. Outside the rain was coming down in sheets, pelting the windows and making a lovely sound. 

‘Well, that’s that.’ Dwight had done all his preparations. He was dressed the part in shirtsleeves and a clean leather apron, goggles perched on his light brown hair. Jim was similarly attired, but without the goggles. He wasn’t planning on getting that close. He knew his way around a gun, had learned to help fire one and run powder for Silver when he was just a boy, but Dwight’s concoctions made him give the table a wide berth. 

They had been admitted to the house by a footman and shown the room they would be using. The Hamilton manor was enormous, far larger than that of the Penvenens. It was also magnificently decorated and Jim was completely entranced by how every inch seemed to be gilded and painted. He’d even glimpsed a library that had made him want to go in and get lost for a good few weeks. Sadly, he knew that tonight he would have to stick to Dwight and make sure that he was visible. 

Ross had been oddly nervous before they had left. Jim had never seen him quite like that, his usual borderline arrogance subdued. They had left before he was ready and he’d been clearly preoccupied with something. It concerned him.

‘You’ve got that look again.’ Dwight remarked with a grin. ‘I’m going to call it the Poldark Effect.’

‘Nonsense.’ Jim shook himself out of it and came to the bench. ‘I just think he’s up to something he’s not telling us.’

‘You two.’ Dwight chuckled. ‘You would think that having bedded each other, you’d be less suspicious.’

‘No.’ Jim snorted. ‘That’s when you should be most suspicious.’

That got a full blown laugh and a disapproving look from a footman passing through the room, a large vase of flowers in his hands. Jim stifled a smile as he went past.

‘I think the help doesn’t approve.’ He looked back over his shoulder at the retreating footman. 

‘Fuck the help.’ Dwight said cheerfully. ‘Now come here and I’ll show you what you’ll be doing.’

**********

The carriage rumbled over the cobbles and Caroline issued instructions. Ross listened with an increasingly perplexed expression.

‘I hope all of this won’t be necessary.’ He frowned. ‘I do not plan on dancing.’

‘It’s a bloody ball, Ross.’ Caroline looked very stern. ‘You are expected to dance.’

‘I don’t know any of the steps.’ Ross pointed out. ‘And you are not going to have a problem finding a partner, I’m sure.’

‘I shall sulk if you don’t.’ Caroline retorted. She peeped through the curtains of the carriage window. ‘Good, we have arrived.’

The carriage came to a stop and the door was opened. Ross got out first and handed Caroline down before offering her his arm. She took it and they walked to the front door and waited to be announced. 

‘Lady Caroline Penvenen and Mr Ross Poldark.’ Caroline said to the footman and he inclined his head and ushered them through to another waiting servant. 

‘You should have let me do that.’ Ross grumbled. ‘Protocol, Caroline.’

‘Bugger protocol.’ she murmured so only he could hear. ‘Now let’s go find my chemist, shall we?’ 

They came to the main reception room where Lord and Lady Hamilton were greeting their guests. The embraced Caroline warmly and then gave Ross a look that said very clearly that they were not sure about him. 

‘Mr Poldark.’ Lady Hamilton said as she greeted him. ‘I do not believe we have ever met.’

‘Ross is an old family friend, Mathilda.’ Caroline explained. ‘He is like a brother to me. He also knew Kit.’

‘Really?’ Now Lord Hamilton took an interest. ‘You met him?’

‘In Africa.’ Ross replied. ‘Your son was a fine man and I was very sorry to hear of his passing.’ He and Caroline had decided that would be the best approach. 

‘Ross is also an explorer and prospector.’ Caroline smiled at him, clearly pleased with his performance. 

‘Indeed?’ Lord Hamilton raised his eyebrows. ‘You will need to tell me all about it.’ His smile was tinged with sadness. ‘Kit always used to write me the most gory descriptions. I do miss them.’

‘Ross.’ Caroline smiled brilliantly. ‘Why don’t you tell Lord Hamilton about the time you fought off a whole pack of hyenas.’ 

She left him standing there with his mouth open and furiously trying to come up with a story and swanned off in the direction of the doorway, neatly taking a glass from a passing footman and heading in the direction of what sounded suspiciously like an explosion. 

‘I went to Africa when I was a young man.’ Lord Hamilton mused. ‘Vicious place. Full of savages and beasts of all manner. I never wanted to go back. Kit was fairly obsessed with it.’ He looked at Ross. ‘How exactly did you meet my son?’

‘A mutual acquaintance.’ Ross replied. ‘We fell in together for an expedition into the Sudan. We were after gold.’

‘As are all men.’ Lord Hamilton replied. ‘You came back though.’

‘I did.’ Ross nodded. ‘Unfortunately your son and I parted ways before he met his untimely end.’

‘It was a black day.’ Lord Hamilton shook his head. ‘I am fortunate to have four other sons, but Kit was the youngest and my wife’s favourite.’ 

‘It must be difficult.’ Ross ventured. ‘Caroline was devastated.’ He didn’t need to guess that part.

‘She loved him. Kit was fortunate to have found such a lovely woman to marry.’ He looked up at the ceiling. ‘You know his room has not been touched since we heard. My wife has desired that we keep it.’

‘My father has recently passed and I am in the process of sorting out his estate.’ Ross said. ‘It can be difficult.’ He was starting to feel a strange tug at him and even as he looked up he caught a glimpse of a tall figure at the edge of his vision.

He ended the conversation as delicately as he could, glad that Lady Hamilton was had looked to her husband and provided him with an escape, and then moved through the throng of people. Sparrow kept step with him, drifting in and out of sight. 

Ross followed him to the room beyond and stood to the side, smiling as he watched the spectacle in front of him. His eyes were instantly drawn to the man behind Dwight, watching Jim with all the intensity of a hawk watching its prey. 

‘You need to hide your emotions better, Ross.’ Caroline’s voice was at his ear. ‘You are as easy to read as a book.’

‘I do not care.’ Ross found himself saying. He looked at her. ‘You know what that is like.’

‘I do.’ Caroline looked at Dwight, smiling as he brandished a flask that was now glowing blue and getting a round of polite applause from his audience. ‘Our minds are not always in control of what our hearts want.’ She took his arm. ‘Now let us go and be sociable company.’

********

The wagon rolled through the streets, the two drays at the front snorting and shaking off the rain. At the front, Silver looked out from under his oilskin hood and Flint met his eyes.

There were twenty of them, five of Mary’s girls and the rest men from the ship. They were all armed, knives and axes stowed under their cloaks. Thankfully the inclement weather meant there were few who observed their progress. 

‘In and out.’ Silver said, looking at Mary. ‘No productions, just get the job done.’

‘I will.’ Mary was calm. ‘You know I always do.’

‘And no risks.’ Silver looked at all of them. ‘We get what we came for and no more than that. Leave everything else.’

There were nods as they kept going, the rain dampening the sound of the drays’ hooves.

**********

Ross managed to get out of dancing, citing two left feet and watching as Caroline was asked many times to take her turn on the floor. It was now after twelve, supper had been served and the entertainment concluded. The ballroom was alive with laughter and people conversing and he took the opportunity to slip away. 

The corridor to the rear of the house was fairly quiet, with most of the servants using the back passages to come and go. He made his way to the reception room and found Jim still packing up as befitted his role of apprentice for a night. He stood in the doorway and as if by magic, Jim glanced up and Ross smiled at him. He came into the room, walking over to survey the bench and grinning at the scorch marks on the tablecloths. 

‘Those will never be fit for use again.’ he remarked and Jim grinned. 

‘It was quite spectacular.’ he laughed. ‘Three ladies fainted.’ He stood up straight. ‘Why are you here?’

‘Just coming to see if I might lure you into an adventure.’ Ross said, smiling at him. 

‘What kind of adventure?’ Jim asked, glancing at him. 

‘The kind that requires stealth and cunning.’ Ross answered. 

‘Well, now I am intrigued.’ Jim looked around them to check if anyone was in earshot, but the room was empty but for them. 

‘Good.’ Ross replied. ‘Then follow me.’ 

He led Jim out the room, slipping through the house until they got to a staircase. He knew where to go, had known since he had caught that first glimpse of Sparrow in amongst the people. 

Jim followed him as they made their way up the stairs and through the darkened passageway at the top. 

‘Ross?’ Jim whispered. ‘Where are we going?’

‘You’ll see in a second.’ Ross could see the man standing at the end in front of the window but knew that Jim could not. 

They got to the door that Sparrow was looking at and Ross tested it, easing the handle to open it and taking Jim by the arm to usher him inside before following him and shutting it securely, turning the key that was still in the lock. 

‘Whose room is this?’ Jim was looking around. ‘And why are we affecting a burglary?’

‘It’s not a burglary.’ Ross explained. ‘It’s keeping a promise.’ He looked around and then spotted the piece of furniture he wanted, going right to the commode and crouching down to open the bottom drawer. He felt inside amongst the folded clothing and then withdrew the small leather box. 

‘What is that?’ Jim was now behind him, peering over his shoulder. 

‘A gift for Caroline.’ Ross stood up and showed it to him. ‘He bought it for her before he left and wanted me to give it to her.’ 

‘He told you that?’ Jim asked and Ross nodded. 

‘It was a favour in exchange for telling me her name and that she could assist me.’ He felt his stomach begin to twist, anxiety coming to the fore at what he was about to do. 

‘I assume that was before he died.’ Jim said and then stopped when he saw the look on Ross’ face. ‘What is it?’

‘Not exactly.’ Ross turned the box over in his fingers. He looked up at Jim and took the jump. ‘Jim, I need to tell you something.’

Jim stared at him, and Ross felt touched to see that he actually looked worried. 

‘Silver said that you have darkness around you.’ He bit his lip. ‘Ross…’

‘Kit didn’t tell me while he was alive.’ Ross interjected. He waited for that to sink in and saw the sudden realisation cross Jim’s face. 

‘You’re like Demelza.’ he said and Ross nodded. 

‘Only more.’ He sighed. ‘Much more.’ 

‘So…’ Jim frowned. ‘You can see the things she sees?’

‘And talk to them.’ Ross confirmed. ‘But I can also pull things from the other side into the here and now.’ He fiddled with the box. ‘I can also find those who do not wish to be found. The captain of the slave ship I was on was one of those. I killed him and then brought him back. He pleaded with me to leave him be but not before I sent him into the darkest place I could find and left him there. He tried to bargain his way out. That’s where the diamonds come in. He had buried them and told me where they were. Now I am using him to set right the wrongs I did.’ 

He looked up and now the space behind Jim was filled with figures, all indistinct in the dark room. The sound of the drops falling from the hands and hair was like thunder in his ears. 

‘Another promise?’ Jim asked and Ross shook his head. 

‘A debt.’ He reached out. ‘Give me your hand.’

Jim hesitated and then complied, taking Ross’ hand in turn. 

‘What are you going to do?’ he asked. 

‘Give me a memory.’ Ross said, taking a deep breath. It had been a long time since he had done this. ‘A happy one.’

He smiled at Jim, trying to reassure him. Jim frowned and then Ross felt it creep in. he latched onto the feeling, holding on tightly as he followed the memory. It was something he’d been taught to do but rarely used. One could never tell what the reaction would be and he knew he was taking a risk. 

The sound of waves filtered into his mind, followed by sunlight and the smell of the beach at low tide. He closed his eyes and then he opened them again as the power inside him took hold. He saw the amazement on Jim’s face and knew that his eyes were black. 

‘Ross…’ Jim’s whisper was awed.

‘Do you trust me?’ Ross asked and Jim tightened his grip.

‘I trust you.’ His eyes were clear. 

‘Close your eyes.’ Ross instructed. He watched Jim close his eyes and let the past well up around them. 

The beach they were standing on stretched far into the distance. Ross could see a building up on the slope behind it, a squat stone thing that he knew without asking was the inn Jim grew up in. 

In front of them he saw two people. The man had the same golden hair as his son and Ross smiled as he heard him talking in the same gentle West Country inflection Jim used sometimes. 

‘Look.’ He said and Jim opened his eyes, squinting against the sun. He looked around him, his eyes widening as he saw where they were. Then he spotted the man and the boy and the rush of emotion in his expression made Ross’ heart ache. 

They watched, standing there hand in hand as the man and boy passed. Jim’s father scooped him up, putting him on his shoulders as he walked and Ross saw how the child that would become the man he shared his bed with hung on and giggled in delight. 

‘His name was Robert.’ Jim said, his voice filled with emotion. ‘It’s my second name. I don’t think I told you that.’

‘You didn’t.’ Ross told him. 

Robert passed close enough for him to see how Jim’s face was an echo of his, the same dimples and light eyes in evidence. 

‘Now lad, see that.’ He pointed out to sea and Ross saw the ship on the horizon he was indicating. ‘That’s a merchantman.’ 

‘I should like to go.’ Jim’s child voice was full of excitement. 

‘Aye.’ Robert smiled and it was identical to Jim’s. ‘That would be a fine adventure.’

They passed them and the vision faded as they went on their way, leaving only the two of them standing in the dark room. 

Ross said nothing, waiting for Jim to break the silence. He could see that Jim’s eyes were overly bright, the unshed tears making them shine. 

‘I had forgotten what he sounded like.’ His voice was pained as he looked at Ross. ‘Thank you.’ 

‘I am sorry I did not tell you sooner.’ Ross said. ‘But now you know.’ He did not know what Jim would do next and was surprised when he came to him and kissed him. 

‘And I’m not running away.’ he whispered and Ross leaned into him, his heart so full that he dared not speak. 

*********

The guards were bored. It was a miserable evening and the steady sound of rain did nothing to lift their spirits. 

The sound of knocking made them all look at each other and the senior man went to slide back the peephole and peer through the grate. What he saw made him grin. 

‘Good evening, sir.’ Mary smiled at him in a way that had never failed her before. ‘I was passing with some friends and wondered if we might come in and shelter from the rain. It is fearful wet outside.’ 

The guard hesitated. It was against regulations to fraternise while on duty but it was past midnight now and he looked at his men.

‘Who is it, sir?’ one asked and he grinned and turned back. 

‘How many are you?’ he asked. 

‘Five.’ Mary replied. ‘And we have bought something extra. She held up the flagon she was holding and saw the glint in the man’s eye. ‘More than enough to get things started, sir. We’ll even give you the special rate.’ 

The guard looked back at his men and saw they were all waiting in anticipation. Five girls to ten men obviously seemed like good odds and he closed the hole and then there was the sound of the door being unlocked. Mary grinned and looked back at her girls. 

‘All right, ladies.’ she said. ‘Best behaviour now.’

**********

Ross led the way back downstairs and at the bottom they ran into Dwight. 

‘There you are.’ He sounded extremely cheerful. ‘The cooks have given us the pick of the leftovers in exchange for a little demonstration.’ Then he seemed to realise where they had come from. ‘What have you two been up to?’

‘Best not to know.’ Ross gave Jim a look and left them, walking back to the rooms that were in use. 

He found Caroline resting between dances. She gave him a curious glance and he handed her the box. 

‘What is this?’ she asked and he nodded at it. 

‘Open it and see.’ he instructed and she did, catching her breath at the sight of the ring inside. It was beautifully made in yellow gold, three arms leading to a circle of diamonds that surrounded a deep green emerald. She took it from the box and slid it on her finger. It fit perfectly. 

‘Kit told me to make sure you got that.’ Ross explained. ‘He never got the chance to give it to you.’ He knew the next part was a lie but didn’t regret it. ‘Those were the last words he spoke to me. That and to tell you that he loved you best above all things and that his dearest wish was to see you happy.’

Caroline stayed quiet but he could see she was close to tears and when she looked up at him he knew that what he’d done was both the happiest and saddest he could have made her. 

‘Thank you, Ross.’ she whispered. ‘Thank you.’

*********

The brandy had gone down very well and the guard room was now filled with the sounds of drunk men and whores plying their trade. Mary balanced herself on the sargeant’s lap and laughed at his clumsy attempts at joking, biding her time. 

The man slid one hand under her skirts, and Mary allowed him to busy himself between her legs as she looked over his head. The other woman were all watching for her sign and she smiled. 

It was all they needed.

Mary reached into her bodice, knowing the man was distracted enough that he would not notice her withdrawing the thin bladed knife she had concealed there. She gave him no chance to react, driving it into his neck and holding him still as he started to spasm. Around her, the others drew their own weapons and went to work. 

*********

Silver sat and waited. 

Next to him, Flint was alert as they both listened. 

The sound of footsteps reached their ears and they saw one Mary’s girls approaching. They didn’t stop, walking past the wagon and melting into the darkness, their business concluded. Part of the deal had been a hefty payment to each of them and they were not going to be hanging about. 

‘Time to go.’ Silver said and Flint flicked the reins. 

The door to the guard room was open and waiting for them. Silver climbed down and went inside with six men following him. He looked around at the dead and dying guards and Mary gave him a sharp edged smile. 

‘I see you haven’t lost your touch.’ Silver stepped over one of the men. 

‘No, it’s been very useful in my recent line of work.’ she replied. 

The others went through the door that led to the inner yard and she and Silver followed, moving to open the gates. The sounds of men being stealthily killed began to reach their ears and they threw back the bolts and pulled the doors open. Flint was waiting and he drove in so they could close the doors behind them. 

The men who had come in returned one by one and the others jumped down from the back. It was a moment’s work to locate the warehouse door and the loading began.

‘All of it?’ one of the men asked and Silver nodded. 

‘All of it.’ he replied. 

**********

Ross handed Caroline back up into the carriage and climbed in after her. She’d been quiet since he’d given her the ring, her blue eyes filled with a faraway look. 

They rode in silence and she toyed with the ring on her finger. It was only once they were back in the city that she spoke. 

‘I was so angry with him for leaving me.’ She was looking out the window. ‘I cursed him every day for a week when I could stop crying long enough.’ She looked at him. ‘But I feel better for knowing he wasn’t alone when he died.’

‘He was a good man.’ Ross replied. ‘I didn’t know him for long, but every time he spoke of you I could see the love he had for you.’

‘He should have come home to me.’ Caroline said, bowing her head. Even so, Ross could see the tell-tale shine of tears on her cheeks. ‘He should have married me.’

‘Men like us aren’t easily kept at home.’ he admitted. ‘It’s not in our natures. Even now I am keen to get away from this place.’ He sighed. ‘Too many bad memories.’

‘At least you have someone you can take with you.’ Caroline sounded bitter. ‘I’m sure to be stuck here until my parents find someone else to marry me off to.’

‘Or you could join us.’ The words were out before Ross had even thought about it. That made Caroline look up and smile. 

‘I thought it was bad luck for a woman to be aboard ship?’ she asked and Ross thought of Mary and Demelza and now Anne. 

‘Not on my ship.’ he replied.

They got to Nampara and he took a moment to take her hand and thank her for her help. Caroline smiled and said no more, now lost in her own thoughts. 

Ross got out and watched the carriage pull away before going to the door and venturing inside. True to his word, the house was dark and silent and he hung up his coat and hat and went upstairs, cursing the shoes as he slipped on the stairs. 

He got to the attic and went in, muttering to himself as he walked to the couch. Then he saw the person sitting cross legged on it and stared in shock. 

‘Elizabeth?’ He couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing. She was wet through and her dark eyes were wild as she held out her hands to him.

‘Help me, Ross.’ she entreated, her voice strained. ‘I have done something terrible.’


	25. A Storm Brews

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things start to go a little off track...

The sound of someone trying their best to break down Nampara’s front door jolted Ross out of a fitful sleep. He sat up, rubbing his eyes and trying to clear his head. The vision from the night before had thrown him badly and he’d taken an age to finally drop off, only to now be woken in such an abrupt fashion.

The banging grew louder and he heard Jud calling for him, stumbling out of bed and walking to the attic door. He got to the landing and saw Jud in the hall in his shirtsleeves and wearing a furious expression.

‘It’s the bleedin’ Company!’ he hissed at Ross. ‘What the bloody hell did you do, boy?’

‘Nothing.’ Ross retorted and came down the stairs, his blood already up. Jud opened the door and a handful of Company guards almost fell through on top of each other. They managed to right themselves and then promptly pushed past Jud, whop spluttered in indignation. Ross turned and gave the senior rating at the back a glare that made the man turn a shade paler than he was.

‘Sir.’ He held out a piece of official looking parchment. ‘We are from the East India…’

‘I know where you’re from, sergeant.’ Ross cut him off, snatching the letter from his outstretched hand. ‘What I want to know is why you are trespassing in my house?’

‘It’s all official, Mr Poldark.’ the man said, trying to sound authoritative. ‘The Company’s warehouse in East India Dock was robbed last night and we have reason to suspect your involvement.’

‘Really?’ Ross read the warrant and then snorted derisively. ‘Have you any proof to back up your ludicrous accusations?’

‘I believe the onus is on your good self to prove that you were not involved. sir.’ The sergeant drew himself up to his full height. ‘Do you have an account of your whereabouts last night?’

‘Plenty.’ Ross retorted. He could hear Jud yelling at the soldiers inside and winced as he heard something shatter. ‘If you would like a detailed recollection as to my exploits, might I suggest you contact Lord and Lady Hamilton of Highgate. I was there from nine in the evening until about one-thirty this morning. I accompanied Lady Caroline Penvenen as her escort and I am sure she will also be happy to vouch for me.’ He smiled as he saw the man go even paler as the ramifications of what those names meant started to seep in. Harassing the son of a merchant was one thing. Going after the aristocracy was quite another.

‘Even so we are obliged to make the search, Mr Poldark.’ The guard was not giving up without a fight.

‘Fine.’ Ross leaned back against the wall and gave the man his most ferocious look. ‘Try not to fucking break any more than you have to.’

The sergeant scurried past him and Ross grinned to himself, knowing that they would find absolutely nothing. He ventured upstairs and got dressed, coming back down as they were going up. He’d already taken the liberty of secreting the Nampara deed and his money on his person and as he got to the bottom of the stairs he took down his hat and coat. He went into the parlour to find a very annoyed Jud sweeping up and righting furniture. The sergeant was still there, looking rather forlorn.

‘Be sure to search the ship and the warehouse too.’ Ross couldn’t help a cocky smile as he said the words. ‘Just to be sure.’

‘Your ship is already being subject to a search.’ The sergeant replied. ‘And Mr Hawkins is being questioned.’

‘Good luck on that.’ Ross laughed. ‘He’s slipperier than a barrel of eels, that one.’ He gave Jud a wink. ‘I’ll be back when it’s a little less crowded.’

‘Christ, I don’t know what’s bleedin’ worse.’ Jud muttered. ‘You pitchin’ a fit or not being bothered at all.’ He waved the broom at him. ‘Go on and don’t bloody come back until later. I need some peace and quiet.’

Ross chuckled and left the house. He was about to take a walk down to the docks for some air when he saw someone approaching the gate. He waited and the boy handed him a letter after enquiring as to his name. Ross turned it over and his heart sank as he saw the seal on the back.

He opened the letter, already steeling himself for the worst. The writing inside was well known to him and had it been a couple of short weeks earlier he would have rejoiced at the sight of it.

_I must see you_  
_E._

‘Fuck.’ Ross muttered, crumpling the letter in his fist. He turned on his heel and stormed back into the house, any good humour he had evaporating in an instant.

Jud was busy shooing the soldiers out of the parlour with his broom like an angry housewife and he looked at Ross is surprise.

‘I thought you left.’ he said as Ross walked past him, headed for the kitchen and the back yard.

‘Change of plans.’ he muttered.

Bathsheba was dozing and did not take kindly to being disturbed. Ross battled with her, finally getting her tacked up before leading her out. He climbed on and gave her a mighty kick in the flanks and she shot off down the road, scattering people in her path.

**********

Jim watched in fascination as Dwight carefully measured out the saltpetre into the vast wooden tub and then picked up what looked like a massive paddle. He had his sleeves rolled up, having been pressed into bringing water for Dwight to use in the mixing process.

‘Now we stir.’ Dwight explained. ‘Carefully.’ He started to stir the mixture, using gentle strokes so as not to agitate it too much. ‘When it is thoroughly mixed, we shall have to press it and then dry it into cakes and grind it. That will be what goes in the barrels.’

‘And all this takes four weeks?’ Jim frowned.

‘The mixture has to settle and mature.’ Dwight replied. ‘It’s a good way. The French came up with a method to expedite the process by adding nitrates but only a madman would attempt that.’

‘Why?’ Jim wrinkled his nose at the familiar smell. ‘What does it do?’

‘Well, it makes the whole process far more effective but also extremely volatile.’ He grinned. ‘Their little experiments damn near blew away half an island.’

‘That sounds quite remarkable.’ Jim picked up the pail next to him and added more water at Dwight’s instruction.

‘True, but I quite like having my skin attached to my body.’ Dwight chuckled. He leaned into the paddle and then glanced at Jim. ‘What exactly were you two doing last night?’

‘Nothing.’ Jim replied, not looking at him. He’d learned to be on his guard around Dwight. The chemist was far too shrewd to be easily deceived. ‘Ross just had something to do.’

‘The thing you thought he was hiding?’ Dwight asked. He grinned at Jim’s stubborn silence. ‘You do realise I’ll work it out eventually.’

‘Until then, I shall hold my tongue.’ Jim laughed. ‘I do not put it past Ross to cut it out if I should speak out of turn.’

‘No fun for him.’ Dwight gave a wicked chuckle. ‘I have been meaning to ask about your little liaison.’ He said it with a French flourish.

‘There’s not much to tell.’ Jim smiled. ‘We argue a lot and fuck a lot.’

‘It must be odd, courting another man.’ Dwight mused.

‘Not as odd as you’d think.’ Jim replied.

They were both alerted by the sound of a horse approaching from outside. Jim looked at Dwight, who shrugged.

‘I am not expecting visitors.’ he hissed and Jim reached for the pistol he’d bought along as a precaution. He moved to the doorway, leaning out to get a quick look and then lowered the weapon.

‘What the devil are you doing here?’ he asked and got a silvery laugh in reply as Caroline strode in and handed him a wicker basket.

‘I’ve come to feed my chemist.’ she declared and Dwight smiled from ear to ear.

**********

Ross rode up the drive of the house. He thought about the last time he’d been there when Elizabeth had resolutely told him to leave and a shiver went through him as he remembered the image of her on his bed the night before. He dismounted at the door and tied Bathsheba off, noticing that there was no-one to greet him as there had been the last time.

He rang the bell and stood waiting. The sound of footsteps reached his ears and the door was opened by a footman who invited him in. Ross gave him his name and the man led him inside. Ross was expecting to be taken to the same parlour as previously, but instead he was taken to the rear of the house. The drawing room he was ushered into was lit by the winter sun and he saw a chair had been placed by the window.

Elizabeth was dressed in black, her face pale and lovely. Ross frowned as he approached, realising that she hadn’t even seemed to have noticed his arrival.

‘Elizabeth?’ He moved to look at her and the complete lack of emption on her face shocked him.

‘They buried him out there.’ Her voice was flat. ‘He wasn’t baptised so they couldn’t out him in a churchyard.’

‘Who?’ Ross was momentarily confused, now sure that his vision had been horribly inaccurate.

‘Geoffrey.’ Elizabeth rested her hands on her stomach and now Ross saw it. The gentle swelling of her abdomen was less than it had been and he realised with some alarm that the feeling he’d had the morning after the duel had not been as insignificant as he’d thought it was.

He knelt by her side, compassion filling him as he saw how profound her sadness was, and took her hand.

‘Beth?’ He hadn’t used the pet name in years. ‘What happened?’

‘I fell.’ Elizabeth whispered. ‘He was stillborn.’

Ross looked into her eyes and she stared back at him, the deep brown flat and clouded with pain.

‘I am sorry.’ He squeezed her hand. ‘Truly I am.’

‘You could fix it.’ Elizabeth said and now Ross was caught on the back foot. He had a horrible feeling he knew where this was headed and the very first thing that sprang to mind was not that this was what he’d wanted, but that now it was the furthest thing from his mind.

‘What do you mean?’ he asked, already knowing and hating himself for it.

‘You came here.’ The accusation in her voice cut through him. ‘You came back for me.’

‘I did.’ Ross stood up. ‘But you told me that you wanted no more of me or what I offered the last time I was here. You told me to leave, that you never wanted to see me again.’

‘And now I have changed my mind.’ Elizabeth’s face changed, her eyes burning with sudden emotion. ‘You cannot rescind what you offered me.’

‘You are angry and in pain.’ Ross stepped back from her. ‘You would not want what I could offer.’

‘Why are you pulling away from me?’ Elizabeth was angry, her eyes flashing at him. ‘This is what you wanted. For me to throw Francis over and go with you!’

‘And you told me that you never wanted to see me again.’ Ross pointed out. ‘This is your grief speaking.’

‘A fine time for you to grow a conscience, Ross.’ Elizabeth spat at him. ‘When it’s convenient for you.’

Stung by what he knew was true, Ross sighed.

‘You are correct. I was horribly selfish coming to you like that and you had every right to turn me away. But this is not the way to do things.’ He felt the turmoil bubbling up inside him. This had been all he’d been able to think of, but now all he could think of was the man that he now realised he had fallen in love with.

‘Take me away from here, Ross.’ Elizabeth’s eyes were now pleading. ‘You said you still love me. We can go and be together like we were always meant to.’

‘You know you do not want this.’ Ross shook his head. ‘I am leaving in two months to go to the far side of America and you are still married to Francis.’ He shook his head. ‘You would hate me and yourself once this passed.’

‘You could change that.’ Elizabeth was now smiling but it was tinged with cruelty. ‘You could finish what you started with the duel.’

‘What are you suggesting?’ Ross was shocked.

‘Kill him.’ Elizabeth breathed with an almost religious fervour. ‘Kill him for me and then we can be together.’

Ross stared at her. He could not reconcile what he was hearing with who was saying the words.

‘No.’ He shook his head. ‘Do not ask me to do that.’

‘Why not?’ Elizabeth demanded. ‘You hate him. And now so do I.’ She sounded almost gleeful. ‘It would be perfect.’

‘Elizabeth.’ Ross had to curb the feeling inside him. ‘This is not what you would want.’ He met her eyes. ‘This is not you speaking.’

‘How would you know?’ Elizabeth scoffed. ‘You do not know what I have endured.’

‘So tell me.’ Ross entreated. ‘And I will beat him within an inch of his life.’

‘It’s not enough.’ Elizabeth hissed. ‘I want him dead.’

‘What has come over you?’ Ross could not for the life of him understand what was going on. The vision he’d had was now preying on his mind, not to mention the conflict that he felt at the thought of what Jim might make of all of this.

Jim.

‘Only what you wanted.’ Elizabeth reiterated. Her mouth twisted.

‘I…’ Ross suddenly understood everything. He moved away from her. ‘I am sorry. I should never have come.’

‘No.’ Elizabeth looked back to the window. ‘Maybe you shouldn’t have.’ She lifted her chin. ‘I was a fool to think you might have changed. You are as cowardly now as you were before.’

‘I know.’ Ross couldn’t deny that she was right. ‘But this is not the way.’

‘You bastard.’ Elizabeth’s whisper was venomous. ‘Get out.’

Ross heaved a sigh.

‘This is the second time you have said that to me.’ He shook his head. ‘I will not try to defend myself. I have behaved appallingly and I can only apologise.’

‘I hate you.’ Elizabeth lowered her head. ‘I curse the day we met.’

Ross nodded.

‘I know you do.’ He turned, making to leave. ‘I won’t bother you again.’

‘I hope you die there.’ Elizabeth said, her voice now flat again.

Ross stopped in his tracks and then kept going.

He left the room and walked back to the front hall. As he did, he passed the room he’d met her in before and then stopped as he saw Francis standing at the window. For a moment he considered going in and speaking to him, but instead he carried on walking and left the house without looking back.

**********

‘It smells awful.’ Caroline had her nose wrinkled. Dwight laughed and made to embrace her with his filthy hands and she squealed and dodged him.

Jim watched them, smiling at the happiness that was so clear on both their faces. He heard the sound of hoofbeats and got up, seeing how they were so wrapped up in each other they had not even noticed. He went outside, hand on his pistol, and watched as the tall black mare cantered up the lane towards the mill, his heart beating quicker at the sight of the man on her back.

Ross pulled Bathsheba to a stop and dismounted and Jim frowned as he saw the look on his face.

‘Ross?’ He was thrown as Ross didn’t even stop to greet him, just stormed up to him and took Jim’s face in his hands and kissed him with an urgency that took Jim’s breath away. He responded, helpless to anything else, and Ross took him around the waist and pulled him in close.

They parted and Jim looked up into his hazel eyes, trying to read what was there.

‘What is it?’ he asked and Ross shook his head.

‘Ask me another day.’ His voice was low.

Jim could feel how he was shaking and he reached up, one hand to Ross’ face as he made him look at him.

‘All right.’ he said. ‘Another day.’

**********

In Leadenhall Street, clerks ran and hid and every man who wasn’t directly involved thanked their lucky stars that they could slink away from the storm that had broken out in Warleggan’s office.

‘Nothing!’ Warleggan raged. In front of his desk, George and Unwin quailed before his anger. ‘You’re telling me that all our searches have turned up nothing?’ His roar was loud enough to be heard several corridors down.

‘That seems to be the case, sir.’ Unwin’s voice trembled. ‘They searched the house, the ship and the warehouse on the docks. Not only that, but we have a written statement from the Hamiltons that Poldark was there the entire evening.’

‘Fucking bastards!’ Warleggan roared. ‘He’s in it up to his bloody eyeballs!’ he picked up a glass and hurled it in Unwin’s direction. ‘Get out of my sight you useless little shit and do not come back until you have found a way to either get back the saltpetre or a way to make Ross Poldark hang for it!’

Unwin nearly fell over himself in an effort to run out the office and George was about to follow him when a glare from his father rooted him to the spot.

‘I want every last bloody detail!’ Warleggan hissed. ‘I want to know how a company of seventeen Company guards were slaughtered on their watch and The Royal Navy’s entire stock of saltpetre managed to disappear seemingly into thin air!’

‘It was him.’ George said, his voice tight. ‘We both know he was behind it.’

‘Yes, but unless we can prove that particular fact, we are going to be held responsible.’ Warleggan slumped in his seat. He reached for a piece of parchment in front of him and waved it at George. ‘Do you see this? It’s a despatch from the fucking Crown. They are demanding an explanation and I must give them one.’ He levelled his pale blue eyes at his son, and George fairly squirmed at the vitriol in it. ‘I want you to exploit every bloody weakness they have. Find out everything you can and nail this bastard to the fucking wall!’  
George nodded and left the office, his mind working frantically and coming up with only one recourse. He left the offices and went down to the interior yard, instructing a man to fetch his horse.

**********

Jim sat and looked at Ross. They were outside and sitting on the stone wall that ran along one side of the mill pond.

‘You are very quiet.’ he said and Ross sighed.

‘I have had an interesting day.’ he replied. ‘Having the Company break down the front door was not exactly an auspicious beginning to my morning.’

‘They were at the ship too.’ Jim picked up a small stone and skimmed it along the surface of the pond. ‘Thankfully, Silver was ashore with Flint and Anne.’ He huffed. ‘They were very thorough.’

‘What did they ask you?’ Ross glanced at him.

‘Where I was last night.’ Jim replied. ‘I told them I was at the Hamiltons with a friend, assisting him on a job.’

‘They’ll no doubt find that suspicious.’ Ross looked up and squinted at the sky. ‘But they won’t be able to do anything about it.’

Jim watched him, his stomach lurching. He could see the struggle in Ross’ face and wondered what had caused him to feel the way he was. He leaned over and took Ross’ hand, heartened when Ross let him link their fingers together.

‘I am not going to ask where else you have been.’ he said. ‘But I hope that one day you’ll tell me.’

‘I don’t know if I should.’ Ross sounded as low as Jim had ever heard him. ‘You may well hate me for it.’

‘I don’t think I could.’ Jim looked away, knowing he was about to either make the best or worst decision of his life. ‘In fact I think that…’

‘I love you.’ Ross’ voice was so soft it was barely audible. It also stopped Jim in his tracks and he stared at him as Ross turned to look at him, his hazel eyes now unreadable. They stared at each other, both of them barely breathing.

‘Say it again.’ Jim knew he had to ask, his mind unable to even process what he was hearing.

‘If I do, will you leave?’ Ross turned back and looked at the water. ‘You would be wise to.’

That woke something up inside Jim, a fire that blazed and threatened to destroy every barrier between them. He considered a moment and then threw himself into it, putting one hand to Ross’ jaw and turning him enough to kiss him hard on the mouth. Ross froze and then came back at him with equal fervour and they kissed until they were both hanging onto each other, hands fisted in each other’s clothing and breathing like they had both been running for their lives.

‘Again.’ Jim breathed against Ross’ mouth. ‘Say it.’

‘I love you.’ Ross’ dark brows were drawn down, his eyes troubled. Jim’s breathing caught and he kissed him one more time, gentler and lingering as he let all his carefully controlled feelings spill over and consume him.

‘I love you.’ He said the words with his eyes closed, afraid to look in case Ross took it all back. He didn’t though, just kissed Jim again and pulled him close, strong arms making Jim feel safer than he had for as long as he could remember.

‘You know this will all probably end in tears.’ Ross spoke into his shoulder, his voice muffled. ‘I am not a good man.’

Jim pulled back and took Ross’ face in his hands and met his eyes.

‘Neither am I.’ He gave Ross a rueful smile. ‘But maybe together we can be a little better.’

Ross smiled, a half-hearted little thing, and leaned his forehead against Jim’s.

‘Yes. Maybe we can.’ he replied.


	26. No Turning Back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It all comes to a head...

Four days passed in much quieter fashion after the excitement of the raid and the more concerning visit with Elizabeth. Still, Ross couldn’t kick the feeling that had him almost constantly looking over his shoulder and it was making irritable.

‘You need to drink more.’ Jim declared and nodded at the glass Ross had just filled. They were at the theatre, a place that Ross had come to appreciate for the fact that it allowed him to spend time with Jim away from everyone else and also to hide from the now ever present Company men that dogged his every step without even bothering to hide their presence.

‘If I drink any more, I fear I am going to lose my temper and actually hit one of them so hard he won’t get up again.’ Ross growled. He was on the low couch in Jim’s dressing room, watching him make himself up for the performance that evening. It was Midsummer again and Jim was busy painting the detailed patterns on his face, having already fixed his horns on. He turned to Ross with a stern look on his face and the brush in one hand. 

‘You most certainly won’t.’ he warned. ‘We have come too far for you to bugger things up because you’re having a strop.’

‘Blast it all.’ Ross drank and scowled at him in the mirror. ‘I am sick to death of trying to act like a civilised man.’

‘Well, you don’t have a choice.’ Jim pointed out. ‘You are leading this bloody enterprise and you have to just keep yourself calm until we can get away cleanly.’

Ross heaved a sigh and watched him, his body now conditioned to respond to the merest hint of bare skin as far as Jim was concerned. He regarded him, letting his eyes linger over the curve of Jim’s shapely rear end and broad shoulders, then got up and stalked to the stool Jim was kneeling on and manhandled him forward so he was leaning on both hands on the dressing table. Jim laughed and let himself be moved, smiling at Ross in the mirror as Ross moved behind him and rubbed up against him. 

‘You need to wait until the performance is finished.’ He pushed back into Ross’ cock, the friction between their clothed bodies doing nothing to alleviate Ross’ arousal. 

‘It’s two bloody hours long.’ Ross snorted. ‘Bugger waiting.’ He pulled Jim back up and then got him around the waist and hauled him over to the couch, dropping him in a rather unceremonious heap before climbing on top of him while Jim laughed and made a pathetic attempt to throw him off while at the same time hanging on like a burr. Ross took that as an open invitation and kissed him, silencing any and all protests, and Jim responded by locking both legs around him and pulling him down on top of him. 

‘Jim?’ The door to the dressing room opened and Will, the man who ran the company, peered in. He was a huge bear of a man with fiery hair and a ruddy face and he grinned from ear to ear to see what he’d interrupted. ‘I hate to be the bearer of bad tidings, but you really need to get your arse out on stage.’

‘Bollocks.’ Jim muttered, wriggling out from under Ross and grinning at him. ‘You’re covered in greasepaint now. Everyone will know what you’ve been up to.’

Ross laughed and wiped at his face where smudges of gold tarnished his skin.

‘Good.’ He looked smug. ‘That way they will know to keep their hands off you.’ 

Jim snickered and left him and Ross sat back, smiling to himself and drinking his wine while he waited for the interval. 

*********

‘My God.’ Caroline grumbled. ‘This is incredibly dull.’

She was sitting on a crate covered in a cloth and watching Dwight tend to his vats. There were now twenty in total, one for each barrel, and he was like a mother hen guarding her chicks with them. 

‘I did try to warn you my dear.’ Dwight replied. ‘But I have a sacred duty to ensure nothing explodes, taking both myself and your lovely person along with it.’

Caroline pursed her lips and went back to reading the small book in her hands. She had a lantern next to her and well away from the vats. 

‘Have you thought about what you’ll do?’ she asked. ‘In the New World?’

‘I have been interested in all sorts of things.’ Dwight replied. ‘I assume from the way Ross speaks that I am to be pressed into service as the ship’s doctor, even though I did not have the slightest inclination to cut men open.’

‘No.’ Caroline conceded. ‘But you are possessed of a remarkable amount of common sense and a very active mind.’ She smiled at him. ‘I am sure you will do splendidly.’

‘I’ve never sailed before.’ Dwight laughed. ‘I might turn out to be awful at it. It wouldn’t do any good to have a surgeon that cannot keep his lunch down on the high seas.’

‘Ross did make me an offer.’ Caroline said it offhand, but Dwight immediately pounced on it. 

‘What kind of offer?’ he asked and she gave him a smile that was a little forlorn. 

‘He offered me a place on the ship.’ She shrugged. ‘A kind offer but not one I could act on.’

‘Why not?’ Dwight stood up straight. ‘I think it’s a marvellous idea.’ 

Caroline laughed.

‘You would.’ She said. ‘No, I need to be on this side. You and Ross and Jim aren’t the only ones I have business with.’

‘How on earth did you even get involved with this?’ Dwight asked. ‘I can’t imagine that being a spy is something that just happens to women of your class.’

‘It was Kit.’ Caroline said and looked at the ring on her finger. ‘He and I were kindred spirits in our hatred for that bloody corrupt monstrosity that sits on the throne. He introduced me to people he knew, people with similar interests and they found that I could be of use to them. My parents are very influential and are very socially active. The things you hear at parties.’ She smiled and got up, coming to stand next to Dwight as she placed a hand on his shoulder. ‘And I am very good at getting people to talk to me, especially men.’

‘That I do not doubt for a second.’ Dwight conceded. 

‘Although I do wonder what life might be like as a chemist’s wife.’ Caroline’s eyes sparkled with mischief. 

‘Poor.’ Dwight laughed. He raised an eyebrow at her. ‘I do wonder what your parents must think with you vanishing every evening to come here and bring me such delights as your kitchen provides.’

‘They don’t know and I do not tell them.’ Caroline explained. ‘I have my own life, such as it is until I get married and my husband decides I am too independent.’

‘I would never do that.’ Dwight assured her. ‘I find you spirit to be the most wonderful thing about you.’ 

‘In that case maybe I should marry you.’ Caroline laughed. 

Dwight stopped dead and then turned to look at her. His face was perfectly serious.

‘Would you?’ he asked. ‘Or is that just something you are saying to amuse yourself?’ 

Now it was Caroline’s turn to freeze in place and look at him, her blue eyes searching his. 

‘Would you ask me?’ she countered. 

‘You just answered my question with a question.’ Dwight observed. 

‘And you haven’t answered.’ Caroline shot back. 

They stared at each other, the tension growing between them until Dwight moved and Caroline came to meet him, their mouths meeting before he lifted her off her feet and pinned her to the wall. Caroline did not give him any quarter, her passion more than a match for his. 

They finally broke apart and she looked up at him. 

‘The last time I spent the night, you were too much of a gentleman to take me to your bed.’ She smiled at him. ‘Don’t make that mistake again.’

It was enough to set Dwight’s heart pounding.

‘I won’t.’ he breathed and kissed her again.

*********

Jim came back in the intermission and Ross promptly pounced on him. Jim laughed as Ross slammed the door shut and then picked him up in his arms. They hit the wall hard, kissing frantically. 

‘You do realise I have to go back out there.’ Jim panted, already breathless as Ross attacked his neck. 

‘Don’t care.’ Ross was mutinous. He set Jim down, trying very unsuccessfully to get his costume undone. 

Jim laughed and helped him and then gasped as Ross got his hand down the front and got hold of his cock. 

‘You’ll have to make it quick.’ He let his head tip back, moaning as Ross worked him with quick sure strokes. 

‘Off.’ Ross instructed and Jim managed to kick his trousers away, hooking one leg up and around Ross’ hip as he shoved at Ross’ braces. Ross let go of him long enough to shuck his shirt and get his own trousers down far enough, grabbing Jim under the thighs and hoisting him back up again. 

Jim laughed, reaching between them to guide Ross in. They had fucked several times the night before and then again before they had come to the theatre and he was well worn in, taking Ross’ cock with no discomfort. He locked his ankles at the small of Ross’ back, arms around his neck and nails scratching striations across his bare shoulders. Ross snarled at him and drove in hard, pinning Jim against the wall with his body. He leaned his forehead against Jim’s and they stared at each other as Ross started a deep sustained rhythm, his thrusts driving home each time and making Jim whine in pleasure at every stroke. His own cock was rock hard, leaving shiny streaks on Ross’ skin as it was caught between their bodies. 

‘Fuck.’ Ross was sweating from the exertion of holding him up, the muscles standing out in his arms. Jim smiled, lost in the feeling of Ross’ cock inside him and taking him up to heights that he never wanted to come down from. 

‘More.’ He licked at Ross’ mouth. ‘I want you to fuck me, not treat me like some virginal society lady.’

Ross laughed.

‘You’re as far from being a lady as it is possible to be.’ He bit at Jim’s mouth and Jim snapped at him in reply. ‘Your cunt is far too well used.’

Jim laughed and threw his head back, his cries escalating as Ross became relentless in his drive to get him to the point of no return. 

‘Then it is a good thing that your cock is big enough to satisfy it.’ he hissed back, raking his nails over Ross’ skin hard enough to leave livid marks. ‘Or I would have to find another.’

Ross growled and bit down on his shoulder, lighting shooting up his spine as Jim tightened around him. 

‘You shall have no other but me.’ He hissed the words.

‘No.’ Jim looked at him, holding his gaze and smiling. ‘You are the only one I desire.’ He sounded distinctly mocking.

‘Liar.’ Ross laughed. ‘We both know how badly you want it. You get wet just looking at a man.’ He redoubled his efforts, the muscles in his back and legs burning. It was enough to knock the fight out of Jim completely. 

‘God…’ He sounded like he could barely catch his breath. ‘Fuck, Ross…’

‘That’s it.’ Ross licked up the side of his neck. ‘Come on my cock my little whore and I’ll fill you up.’

‘Yes…’ Jim arched back against him, bucking violently in his arms as he came and striped Ross’ skin with white. His cries were loud enough to be heard outside, but Ross didn’t care. Everyone at the theatre knew full well what they were to each other now. 

He drove all the way in, the tight heat and the way Jim bore down on his cock too much for him. It made Ross lose all his sensibilities as his vision whited out and the blood rushed in his ears. He slowed and then stopped, panting against Jim’s damp skin.

‘I love you.’ He breathed the words, now said too many times to count since that afternoon at the mill pond. Jim leaned into the wall, his blue-green eyes hazy as he looked at Ross and smiled. 

‘And I you.’ he replied. They stayed like that, drowning in each other until the door flew open and Will came in. He stopped dead as he saw them there. 

‘Christ.’ he muttered. ‘Jim, it’s time for you to get back out.’ 

‘Give me a moment.’ Jim laughed. ‘I am a little indisposed.’

‘Yes, I can bloody see that.’ Will grumbled, retreating and closing the door behind him. 

**********

Elizabeth looked up as at the footman hovering in the doorway of the library where she was sitting after dinner. He was new, three of their long term staff having left the house muttering about owed wages. 

‘What is it?’ she asked, not bothering to hide her impatience. 

‘You have a visitor, madam.’ The young man was clearly uncomfortable. 

Elizabeth frowned. It was later, after eight o’clock already and she knew that decorum would have her turn whoever it was away but she was also curious about who it might be. Francis was not at home, no doubt drinking and whoring his way around the city and Elizabeth had fallen into a strange sort of ambivalence since Ross’ visit. 

‘Show them in.’ she instructed. The footman looked scandalised and she levelled a stern glance at him. ‘I said to show them in.’

The footman nodded and retreated. Elizabeth sat up a little straighter and brushed a strand of hair back from her face. Someone appeared in the doorway and she looked up, surprised at who she saw. 

‘Mr Warleggan.’ She was taken aback. ‘I am afraid Francis is not here.’

‘I didn’t come to see Francis.’ George came in and took the seat opposite her. ‘I came to see you. He mentioned this evening that you are poorly.’

‘You saw him?’ Elizabeth asked. 

‘In the city.’ George confirmed. ‘He was looking a little worse for wear.’

‘Drunk you mean.’ Elizabeth was contemptuous. ‘That does not seem out of character for him these days.’ She lifted her chin and gave George a brittle smile. ‘Could I offer you something, Mr Warleggan?’

‘Just your assurance that you are well, Mrs Poldark.’ George replied. ‘I was concerned.’ He leaned forward, his pale blue eyes locked onto her. ‘You know I hold you in the highest esteem.’

Elizabeth was taken aback. George had been for dinner numerous times since he and Francis has begun their association and she knew that he favoured her. In truth she had always felt flattered by his attentions, especially in light of her own husband’s lack of sensitivity. Tonight though he seemed almost fervent. 

‘Thank you.’ she replied. ‘You are very kind.’ 

‘Not at all.’ George replied. ‘If I had a wife as lovely as yourself, I would not leave her at home if she was unwell.’

Elizabeth basked in the compliment. She had had time to lick her wounds after Ross’ less than successful visit and her anger at the treatment she’d received from both him and her husband had made her slightly reckless. 

‘It’s a good thing you do not have a wife then.’ She smiled at him. ‘Because you are clearly somewhere else, with someone else’s wife.’ 

‘Indeed.’ George returned her smile. ‘Is that an invitation to stay?’

‘It is, Mr Warleggan.’ Elizabeth replied, smoothing over her skirts and giving him a look from under her lashes. 

***********

Dwight lit the lamp and looked to where Caroline lay on the pallet, her golden hair loose around her lovely face. She was only in her shift, her head pillowed on one hand. 

‘You will think me wicked after that.’ she said and he smiled and came back to get under the blanket with her. She leaned her head on him, looking at him with a quirk at the corners of her mouth. 

‘I think you the most beautiful woman I have ever met.’ he replied. ‘And the most singularly exceptional.’

Caroline laughed and dropped a kiss to his chest. 

‘You are a delight.’ She trailed her fingers over his skin. ‘I should have liked to be a chemist’s wife I think.’ 

‘You still could.’ Dwight chuckled. ‘I am very willing to marry you.’ He stroked down her back, thumb dragging against her satiny skin. 

‘No.’ Caroline sighed. ‘I am far too valuable to the cause here. I need to stay.’ 

‘That is a great pity.’ Dwight replied. ‘Because I will no doubt need to be gone. Soon enough my association with Ross and Jim is going to catch up with me and I have no desire to dance at the end of a rope.’

‘They will need you.’ Caroline traced over his bottom lip with her fingertip. ‘You are by far the cleverest.’

‘Thank you my dear.’ Dwight laughed and pulled her to him, kissing her soundly. 

**********

Jim and Ross rode back to Nampara, both of them slightly drunk and laughing. 

‘You did what?’ Ross was completely appalled and amused at the same time. 

‘He deserved it.’ Jim replied. He had Gunpowder pulled in close enough that their knees brushed. ‘I should go back to the ship.’

‘You’ll do no such thing.’ Ross retorted. ‘You’re coming with me and that’s final.’

‘Oh?’ Jim grinned. ‘Now you’re telling me where to be?’

‘I told you I am a jealous man.’ Ross replied. 

‘That you did.’ Jim laughed. ‘I will come with you but I need to be up early and off to the ship. Have you packed your things yet?’

‘I have.’ Ross replied. ‘Will you take it with you?’ 

‘Yes.’ Jim turned Gunpowder’s head as they came into the road leading to the house. ‘Will you go to see how Dwight is progressing tomorrow?’

‘Most likely.’ Ross shifted as Bathsheba lurched into a trot as she realised her stable was in striking distance. 

They got into the yard and chatted as they untacked and stabled the horses and then went inside. The kitchen was quiet and they walked through and upstairs, getting undressed and climbing into bed together and settling down until they were comfortable. 

Ross lay on his back with his head on his arm and looked at the light coming through the dormer window. 

‘What’s it like?’ he asked. ‘Growing up the way you did.’

‘It was hard sometimes.’ Jim turned over to look at him, lying on his stomach with his chin in his hand. ‘But I never wanted for love.’ He smiled. ‘I had a very big family.’

‘I sometimes wonder if I would have been very different if my mother hadn’t been taken away.’ Ross said. ‘If I would have gone a different way.’

‘If you had, then this would have never happened.’ Jim pointed out. ‘So I am quite glad you didn’t.’ He smiled. ‘Then again, you may well have still ended up like this. You are a wild one, Ross Poldark.’

Ross returned his smile. 

‘I should like to see you at sea.’ He raised a hand and twisted a blond curl around one finger. ‘See what you are really like.’

‘Who’s to say this is not who I am?’ Jim teased. ‘What makes you think I am different?’

‘Because you wear as many masks as I do.’ Ross replied. ‘And I would dearly love to get a proper look behind them.’

‘You’ve already seen more than most.’ Jim admitted. ‘Maybe one day you’ll see all of it, if you have the stomach for it.’

‘I like the sound of that.’ Ross smiled and pulled him in for a kiss.

************

Elizabeth lay in her bed. She was terribly cold, her hands and feet like ice and she contemplated what to do. She had hoped for a bath before bed, but George’s visit had extended until well after one and had proved to be a most diverting and illuminating one. Elizabeth was well aware that the servants had all been lurking outside the door, no doubt convinced that she was up to no good, but she did not care a whit for their opinions of her. George had expounded at length on the virtue of going after what one wanted in life and she had to say that she definitely agreed with him. 

She reached out to ring the bell. After a few minutes she was growing impatient but eventually the door opened and her maid came in wrapped in a shawl and clearly having just gotten out of bed. 

‘Madam?” She looked concerned. ‘Are you all right?’

‘I want a bath.’ Elizabeth said imperiously and saw the maid blink in surprise. ‘Bring up some hot water.’

‘Beggin your pardon but it’s the middle of the night, madam.’ The maid protested with a slight frown on her face. ‘The fire in the kitchen will be out.’

‘Then get it going again.’ Elizabeth ordered, revelling in her new found confidence. ‘Or you will find yourself out on the street before morning.’ Her sharp tone made the maid nod and scuttle off and the effect was unexpectedly gratifying. Terrifying the servants had always been Francis’ province, but Elizabeth was starting to realise that maybe George was right when he’s said that she was too kind hearted and needed to be more vociferous in her demands.

She got up, putting on her dressing gown and going to her dressing table. She took a hair pin from the glass tray, an intricate silver one she’d inherited from her mother. It was long and sharp at one end and flat at the other, the design that of a peacock’s tail and set with malachite. Elizabeth coiled her hair into a knot at the base of her neck and spiked the pin through it, securing the knot in place. 

It was a while before the maid reappeared, hauling a copper ewer of steaming water for the bath which was in the small chamber next to her bedroom. Elizabeth oversaw the preparations, instructing the maid to add salts and oils until she was satisfied. Then she chased the girl out and locked the door behind her.  
Elizabeth took off her dressing gown and shift, looking at herself critically in the cheval mirror in the corner. In spite of its recent trials, her body was still lovely and she ran her hands over his skin, enjoying the smoothness. She moved to the bath and dipped a toe in to test the water then climbed in, lowering herself carefully until the water was up to her chin. 

The heat spread through her body and Elizabeth lay and thought about what she wanted. It was now apparent to her that she had to take matters into her own hands and she closed her eyes and dreamed of a new life far away from where she was. She would be the mistress of Ross’ new Nampara, and he would be proud and happy to have her by his side just like he’d always wanted her to be. 

**********

Francis had had a terrible evening. 

His night at the tables had been beset by bad luck and he was all but penniless as he made his way home. He’d attempted to alleviate his foul mood by engaging two whores with the last of his money only to find them both most disagreeable. Not only that, but he’d even been unable to continue drinking on credit because his club had cut him off.

He rode down the drive, at least thankful that he was still sober enough to sit upright, and got to the yard at the back of the manor. He woke the stable boy and stumbled inside while his horse was being seen to. 

Once inside he headed in search of more drink. The library was closest and he entered, stumbling over the rug and then righting himself as he peered at the scene in front of him. Elizabeth was nowhere to be seen, but there were two glasses resting on the table between the chairs. 

Francis walked over and sniffed one. They had contained sherry and that made him frown. Elizabeth was not given to drink, her self-righteousness being one of the things that he had grown to truly loathe about her. But now it seemed that she had not only taken up the habit but had also had company. 

It made him clench his fists in anger. Elizabeth had been keeping him at arm’s length for a fortnight, every word a snide comment and every look an icy glare. He knew he’d done a terrible thing but it was completely justifiable in his mind. It took a lot for a man to bear his wife being still consumed with love for another and now it seemed that maybe that other had been visiting in his absence. 

He wasted no time storming upstairs and to her bedroom door, throwing it open.

‘Elizabeth!’ he roared. ‘Where the bloody hell are you?’

He stormed into the room, seeing the bed empty and his blood boiling. He got to the closed bathroom door and tried it, finding it locked. He hammered on the wood with his fist, his anger now white hot and raging out of control. Inside he could hear her squeaking in fright and that only enraged him further. 

‘Open this fucking door!’ he bellowed. 

‘No!’ Elizabeth’s scream was tinged with hysteria. 

Francis snarled and threw himself against thew door, barging into it again and again until he felt in splinter under his weight, mindless of the pain in his shoulder. He kicked it open the rest of the way and crashed through to find her out the bath and fighting her way into her shift. 

‘Francis!’ Her dark eyes were blazing. ‘How dare you do this!’

Francis saw red, rushing forward and grabbing her by the arms, shaking her like a terrier with a rat.

‘You bitch!’ he spat. ‘Was he here?’

‘Who?’ Elizabeth was wriggling frantically as she struggled to get away from him, his fingers digging marks into his arms. 

‘Ross!’ Francis hissed. ‘He was here wasn’t he?’

‘No!’ Elizabeth protested. ‘Francis, he wasn’t.’ 

Francis lost all his self-control, lifting his arm and backhanding her across the face so hard she stumbled and fell over into the still full bath. The sight of her floundering around in the water made him so furious that before he knew what he was doing, he was on her with his hands around her throat as he held her head under the water. Elizabeth put up a terrific fight, struggling and Francis felt pain as she raked her fingernails across his face and dug them into his arms.

That was when a part of him screamed in his mind that this was utter madness and he realised just what he was doing. Horrified at his actions, Francis immediately stopped, hauling Elizabeth out of the tub and onto the floor as she coughed frantically, her chest heaving as she sobbed for breath.

He held onto her, now filled with remorse and self-loathing as he realised just how close he’d some to killing her. 

‘Oh my darling.’ he babbled as he held her to his chest, smoothing her wet hair as she was wracked with coughs. ‘I am so sorry, please forgive me.’ He didn’t stop, even when she reached up and he thought for one moment she was about to embrace him in turn and then felt something pierce his neck. 

The pain was brilliant, like staring into the sun on a summer’s day, and it lanced through Francis as quick as breathing. He threw himself back from her and lifted a hand to his neck, feeling hot blood spill over his fingers as they found the hair pin Elizabeth had stabbed him with and which was now sunk deep into his neck. 

He looked at her, as his vision started to go blurry around the edges. She was sitting watching him with a perfectly calm look on her face. Her dispassionate eyes were the last thing Francis recalled as he slumped to the floor and then everything went black. 

**********

Ross had finally gone to sleep after tossing and turning for what seemed like an age. Jim was curled up behind him, his nose in the back of Ross’ neck and one arm wrapped around him. It was strangely comforting and Ross had let himself be held. Now he’d woken and knew almost instantly that they were not alone. He’d not wanted to look, dread filling him as he felt the couch dip as someone sat down at the edge. The smell of blood, thick and coppery, filled his nose and he knew that whatever this was, it was not good. He forced himself to open his eyes and then inhaled sharply at what he saw. 

Francis had his head bowed, but Ross could still see him clearly in the light from the window. There was something sticking out of his neck at the side and a thick trail of spilled blood down his shirt and Ross knew without having to ask that his cousin was dead. 

‘I never thought it would end like this.’ Francis’ voice was hollow, like he was speaking through a void. He looked at Ross and Ross saw that his face was sad. ‘I suppose I always knew it would be the end of me.’

‘Francis.’ He sat up and reached over, placing his hand on his cousin’s arm. ‘What happened to you?’

‘She has always been in love with you.’ Francis sighed. ‘Even when we stood and took out marriage vows, I knew that. I took her to my bed knowing full well she was no virgin, that you had already defiled her. I was so terribly jealous of you, and now I have paid the price for my sin.’

‘God…’ Ross realised what he was saying and then felt a deep terrible feeling that he couldn’t define. ‘She did this?’

Francis turned to look at him, his pale eyes silver in the moonlight. He said no more and even as he faded Ross heard the banging on the front door. He sat frozen to the spot barely able to even comprehend anything. The banging didn’t stop and he felt movement behind him when Jim woke up and shifted. 

‘Ross?’ His voice was sleep rough. ‘What is that?’ 

‘Stay here.’ Ross’ stomach was twisting into knots as he realised he knew who was at the door. ‘I will deal with this.’ 

He got up and pulled on his trousers and shirt and walked to the door of the attic, every step like a knife in his heart. Downstairs he found Jud stumbling into the hall and stopped him. 

‘I’ll take care of this.’ He said and Jud peered at him blearily. ‘Go back to bed.’

The finality in his order made Jud give him a searching look and then turn and retreat into the parlour. Ross went to the door and opened it, knowing already what he would find.  
Elizabeth was wet through from the driving rain, just as his vision of her had been. She pushed past him through to the parlour, taking off her cloak as she moved and Ross followed her. She was filled with so much nervous energy she seemed to be almost vibrating in place. 

‘I’ve done it!’ she declared, her brown eyes too bright when she looked at Ross, prompting to wonder if she had gone mad. ‘You would not so I have made it possible.’

‘You killed Francis.’ He said, his voice flat. 

‘Yes!’ Elizabeth sounded giddy with excitement. ‘For us, my love.’ She came to him, taking his face in her hands. ‘Now we can be together.’

‘No.’ Ross gently removed her hands. ‘I told you this was not the way.’ He took a step back and her face changed, now full of confusion. 

‘How can you say that?’ she asked, her voice rising. ‘I have just killed my husband for you.’

‘No.’ Ross said. ‘You killed him for your own sake.’

‘He hurt me!’ Elizabeth hissed. ‘He tried to drown me in my own bath! He hit me until I lost our child! What I did was too good for him!’ 

‘That may be.’ Ross replied. ‘But it is still murder.’ He sighed and looked at her. ‘Where is he?’

‘At the house.’ Elizabeth said, her face now set in an expression of petulant anger. 

‘Christ.’ Ross ran one hand through his hair. ‘All right, I shall tend to this. Have you somewhere to go?’

‘I am not going anywhere.’ Elizabeth declared. ‘I am staying right here with you, where I belong.’ 

‘You can’t stay here.’ Ross explained. ‘If the watch come looking for you, finding you here will only make you look guilty.’ He paced the floor, his mind racing. ‘We need to make sure he’s not discovered.’ Then he stopped dead. ‘The servants?’

‘They are used to our arguments and will not surface till morning.’ Elizabeth replied, her tone filled with bitterness. ‘They have never lifted a hand to help me in all the time he has made ill use of me.’

‘Then here is what we shall do.’ Ross said, stopping and fixing her with a stern look. ‘I shall come with you and we shall get rid of him. Then tomorrow you will pack your things and go to your family in Cornwall. You can tell them that Francis abused you for the final time and that you have left him.’

‘You will come with me won’t you?’ Elizabeth asked. ‘I need you.’

‘I have a ship to sail in only a few weeks.’ Ross replied. ‘I cannot be there with you and I think that there needs to be a clean break.’ He couldn’t quite control his feelings, digging his nails into his palms as he spoke. 

‘No.’ Elizabeth was insistent. ‘This is what we were waiting for.’ She shook her head. ‘You have to come with me.’

‘We can discuss this later.’ Ross said. ‘We need to attend to the situation at hand. Stay here, I am going to get dressed and then we shall see to it.’ 

He turned without waiting for an answer and went back upstairs. Jim was sitting up in bed, the sheet draped over him and his knees drawn up to his chest and his elbows leaning on them. He looked at Ross with his stillwater eyes and Ross knew he couldn’t hide what had happened. 

‘Elizabeth’s here.’ he said. ‘She’s killed Francis.’

‘God.’ Jim looked shocked. ‘What will you do?’

‘I need to clean up her mess.’ Ross replied. ‘I am partially responsible for this.’ 

Jim didn’t say anything just looked at him. 

‘Do you know what you are doing?’ he asked and Ross shrugged as he dressed. 

‘I know that if this gets out they will hang her.’ he replied and then drew in a shaking breath. ‘I cannot let that happen.’ 

‘No.’ There was something underlying Jim’s voice but his face was calm when looked at Ross. ‘You can’t.’

Ross shrugged into his coat and came to the couch, sitting down and reaching out to place his hand to Jim’s face. 

‘I’ll be back by morning.’ he murmured. ‘I promise.’ 

‘Be sure you are.’ Jim’s voice was shaking the tiniest bit and in that moment Ross knew that he was afraid. He took Jim by the back of the neck and pulled him into a rough kiss, trying through that single contact to fill him with reassurance and all the love he felt for him. Jim responded, the kiss turning desperate. 

They separated and that was when they realised they weren’t alone. 

Ross looked at the door where Elizabeth stood, the look of disgust clear on her face. She stared at them both, her expression turning ugly. 

‘It didn’t take long for you to find someone to warm your bed.’ Her voice was like ice. ‘You know he was your father’s whore?’ 

Ross looked back at Jim, their eyes locking. 

‘I do.’ he replied. ‘And now he is mine.’ He gave Jim one last kiss and then stood up. ‘By morning.’ 

Jim nodded at him and Ross went to the door, taking Elizabeth by the arm and pulling her along with him. 

‘I should have known.’ she hissed as they descended the stairs. ‘You’re just like your father, a weak and perverted man.’

‘You will hold your tongue about him.’ Ross instructed. ‘He is none of your concern.’ 

They got to the bottom of the stairs and that was when Elizabeth wrenched her arm from his grasp and looked intently at him. Her laugh was derisive. 

‘You’re in love with him, aren’t you?’ she sneered. ‘Pathetic.’

‘Let us get this done.’ Ross growled and near dragged her out the door.


	27. Complications

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now it's all kicking off...

Ross straightened up. He’d been filling in the hole that he’d buried Francis in far from the house, and he was now sweaty and dirt streaked. 

His cousin had been right where Elizabeth had left him, lying on the bathroom floor with the hair pin still in his neck. It had thankfully stemmed most of the bleeding and the blood had slowed and clotted in his veins by the time they had returned to the house. As Elizabeth had predicted, nobody had so much as stirred when they had come in and he had left her to clean up the small pool of blood that had pooled around Francis’ body while he’d gotten a blanket from the bedroom and rolled Francis in it before he’d carried him down the stairs and out into the night. It had been a trek across to the woodlands that bordered the house and found a suitable place amongst the undergrowth to bury his cousin. It had not been lost on him that he was burying the last person who held the Poldark name beside himself and even though he was not given to religion, he did take a moment to wish his cousin a speedy path to wherever he was going. 

Ross wiped the sweat from his brow with his sleeve and looked bath. The walk through the woods would take him back to the house, where he’d left Elizabeth to pack her things. They had had a terrific row on the way back to the house, but she’d finally conceded that she needed to get out of the city for a while. 

He shouldered the shovel and started to walk back. It was still dark, the edges of the sky only just starting to colour and the grass was sodden underfoot. By the time the house came back into view he was exhausted, his shoulders stooped under the weight of what he’d just done. 

The house was still quiet and he went upstairs to Elizabeth’s room. He found her dressed and packed and sitting on the edge of the bed, her face set. She barely glanced at him as he came in and he could hardly recognise her like this, the complete lack of emotion that he saw in her face. 

‘Are you ready?’ he asked and she looked towards the window. 

‘Yes.’ It was curt. ‘I am ready to be gotten rid of.’

‘It’s for the best.’ He stayed where he was. ‘You know what to say?’

‘Do not fear.’ She didn’t look at him. ‘I know exactly what to say.’

***********

While the sun was slowly coming up, Jim was sitting at the kitchen table and staring at the nearly empty glass in front of him. He had no qualms about drinking early, his very life aboard ship having involved more alcohol than most would think acceptable and he was not ashamed to say that he was slightly drunk. 

Jud came through from his room at the back of the house and started when he saw him, his face falling into an expression of resignation. 

‘Christ.’ He went to fill the kettle and stoke the fire back into life. ‘I know that bloody look.’

‘Dwight calls it the Poldark Effect.’ Jim was morose. ‘I am afraid he might be right.’

‘I told you not to fall in love with him.’ Jud chastised. ‘Where is he anyway?’

‘Out.’ Jim muttered into his glass. 

Jud gave him a look but aid no more. Instead he came over and plucked Jim’s now empty glass from his hand. 

‘I’m making you breakfast.’ he declared. 

‘Suit yourself.’ Jim reached for the bottle and drank straight from it instead. Jud shook his head and muttered about pirates and their lack of manners under his breath and Jim ignored him. 

The sound of the front got their attention and they looked up to see Ross come in from the parlour. He was dirty and worn out, his face drawn. He met Jim’s eyes and then hung up his coat. 

‘Is it done?’ Jim asked and he nodded, then walked over and took the brandy bottle from Jim and drank down a very large amount of the brandy still left inside before sitting down and handing it back. 

‘It’s done.’ he replied. 

‘Good.’ Jim sighed heavily. ‘That was a complication that neither of us could foresee.’ 

‘No.’ Ross agreed. He ran one hand through his hair and then leaned his head on his hand. ‘Christ, I am exhausted.’

‘You should sleep.’ Jim replied. ‘I’ll take your things to the ship.’

‘Would one of like to enlighten me?’ Jud asked, sounding rather snippy. ‘Or is this more top secret bollocks?’

‘Best you don’t know.’ Ross advised him. ‘It would only make you culpable.’

‘Christ.’ Jud huffed. ‘In that case, forget I asked.’

‘I need to sleep.’ Ross sighed. 

‘Yes, you do.’ Jim replied. ‘Go to bed. There’s nothing that needs your attention today.’ He met Ross’ eyes. ‘It will be all right, Ross. Go.’

Ross gave him a look full of gratitude and got up. He didn’t leave the room immediately though. Instead he came around the table and bent to tilt Jim’s chin up and kiss him with a gentleness that was completely out of character.

It was enough to leave Jud staring in disbelief when he stepped back and walked out the kitchen. He turned and look at Jim, who now had a half smile on his face. 

‘Bloody hell.’ he remarked. ‘I ain’t never seen him do that before.’

‘No.’ Jim felt his heart ache with love, a completely foreign feeling but one he was quickly growing to cherish. ‘I suppose not.’

*********

Caroline woke to the sound of her maid coming into her room to draw back the curtains. As usual her return to Penvenen Hall had gone unnoticed in the early hours of the morning. 

‘Good morning, madam.’ The girl came to stand by her bed. ‘Would you like me to bring breakfast up this morning?’

‘Yes.’ Caroline sat up and made herself comfortable. ‘And could you also lay out my lavender dress and bring up water for my bath?’

‘Of course madam.’ The maid nodded and left the room and Caroline stretched and rested back against the pillows. Her body was still filled with that delightful fatigue that came with the nocturnal activities that she and Dwight had indulged in and she smiled at the memory of his hands on her. 

Her maid returned with a tray not long after and laid it on Caroline’s lap. There was also a letter on the side and Caroline frowned at it. 

‘When did this arrive?’ she asked. 

‘Not long ago.’ her maid replied. ‘A man bought it.’

Caroline looked at the letter as if it might burn her, keeping her expression carefully neutral. She waited for the girl to leave before picking it up and opening it. As she read it her mouth quirked in displeasure. 

The maid returned with water and Caroline addressed her. 

‘There is a change of plans.’ She folded the letter and placed it back on the tray. ‘I shall need my riding habit. I have urgent business today.’

**********

‘Sir?’ The footman stood at the door and he frowned. 

‘What is it?’ he asked and the footman came into the room where he was having breakfast.

‘There is a lady here, sir.’ the footman informed him. ‘She’s in the front room.’

George frowned and laid aside his napkin, getting up and walking through to the front room he used to receive guests, noting the presence of a trunk in the hall as he went past. He stopped dead when he saw the woman standing and looking out the window. 

‘Mrs Poldark?’ He was at a loss. True, their evening had been extremely amicable and he’d had happy thoughts all the way back to the city of getting Francis out the way and making his feelings known but he’d never imagined this. Elizabeth turned and looked at him, her dark eyes filled with sadness. 

‘I fear that I have nowhere else to go, Mr Warleggan.’ She sounded lost, frail. ‘Please do not turn me away. Francis has gone quite mad and made the most appalling use of me.’ She raised her hands and unwrapped the shawl from around her neck and now he could see the livid bruises against her pale skin.

‘He did this?’ He was appalled. For all the Company intrigue he had a hand in, George was not given to physical violence. 

‘He did.’ Elizabeth replied. ‘And then he left. I have no idea where he may have gone, but I could not stay. I left the house and came right to your door. I knew you would help me.’ Her face was imploring and all of George’s reservation evaporated in face of her request. 

‘But of course, my dear.’ He came forward and took her hand, delighted when she did not shrink from the bold gesture. ‘I shall do everything in my power to assist you. You may stay as long as you wish and I will deal with Francis.’

‘Thank you.’ Elizabeth’s eyes were warm as she looked at him, her smile one of the deepest gratitude. ‘I cannot repay your kindness.’

‘It is nothing, madam.’ George’s whole being was suffused with happiness. ‘Pay it no more mind. I shall have a room made up for you and you will be free to come and go as you please.’

‘I think for the sake of discretion, I should remain out of sight for a time.’ Elizabeth replied. ‘I do not wish for my husband to find me.’

‘He shan’t.’ George assured her. ‘And you forget. I have all the assets of the Company to ensure that you are safe and well kept. Now tell me, have you breakfasted?’

**********

‘He’s asleep.’ Jim said as he came into the kitchen from checking on Ross.

‘So what happened?’ Jud asked. ‘In all seriousness?’

‘Elizabeth was here last night.’ Jim replied. ‘Something happened between her and Francis and she came to Ross for help.’

‘I knew it would do for him.’ Jud muttered. ‘This family is cursed.’

The sound of a knock on the kitchen door got his attention and he wiped his hands on his trousers.

‘It’s like bloody Portsmouth on Navy day.’ Jim chuckled. He was so far beyond tired that he couldn’t even be concerned. ‘You’d best go see who it is.’

Jud grumbled and went to open it. Jim’s eyebrows went up as Caroline strode into the kitchen. She was dressed for riding and looking purposeful. 

‘Good morning, Jim.’ She stood and fixed him with a look that could not bode anything good. ‘I have had a letter this morning.’ Her smile was forced. ‘It seems as if we have a development.’

‘What kind of development?’ Jim asked, frowning at her. ‘This doesn’t sound good.’

‘It’s not.’ Caroline turned to Jud. ‘Might I have a cup of tea?’

Jud seemed caught off guard, still gawping at her. He gave Jim a curious look and Jim grinned. 

‘This is Lady Caroline, Jud.’ he explained. ‘And do not ask what role she plays or you could end up in the drink.’

That jarred Jud into action and he was suddenly very busy with the kettle. 

‘There has been news.’ Caroline said. ‘I need to speak to Ross immediately. This has direct consequences for our enterprise.’

‘How direct?’ Jim got up. 

‘We need the shipment to depart as soon as possible. Four weeks has just become untenable.’ Caroline replied. 

‘But it won’t be ready until then.’ Jim pointed out. ‘You know that as well as we do.’

‘Then a way must be found to make it possible.’ Caroline replied. ‘This is not my own request.’ She took a letter from her pocket. ‘I received this this morning. It is from someone with far greater power than myself. I must follow the instructions.’

‘He’s only just gone to sleep.’ Jim folded his arms. ‘And I won’t waken him. He had a very trying night.’ There was a loud snort from Jud when he said it. Jim shot him a look and continued. ‘You’ll have to wait.’

‘Are you his guard dog now?’ Caroline’s mouth quirked at the corners.

‘Think of me as a concerned party.’ Jim replied evenly. ‘I will not disturb him on anyone’s account.’

‘In that case, may I have something to eat along with that cup of tea?’ Caroline sat down. ‘Seeing as I am at Mr Poldark’s pleasure?’

Jim looked at Jud pointedly and Jud huffed and stomped off to the pantry. Caroline waited for him to leave and then raised her eyebrows at Jim.

‘Elizabeth killed Francis last night.’ Jim explained. ‘Ross helped her dispose of the body, then came back here.’

‘Good Lord.’ Caroline looked impressed. ‘I didn’t know she had it in her.’

‘The worst is that she came here afterwards.’ Jim sighed. ‘She found us together. Let us just say that her response was less than enthusiastic.’

‘What will she do?’ Caroline asked.

‘Ross put her in a carriage this morning and sent her to Cornwall.’ Jim replied. ‘Hopefully she’ll stay well out of the way until we have departed.’ He couldn’t quite keep the tone out of his voice and Caroline smiled, very amused by the look of things.

‘I have never seen you jealous before.’ She laughed. ‘It’s quite a novelty.’

‘I’m not jealous.’ Jim retorted. ‘I just do not like loose ends, particularly ones I do not have the measure of.’

‘She knows nothing, Jim.’ Caroline reassured him. ‘All she knows is that Francis and the Company wanted the island and that you and Ross have it.’

‘She also knows about Joshua and I.’ Jim replied. ‘And she is not stupid.’

‘Yes, but she has no idea as to just what your involvement with the rest of this is.’ Caroline replied. ‘Believe me when I say that we have far greater concerns. The letter I got is from Elias. That is obviously not his real name but he is one of the more senior members of our little resistance against the crown and he has informed me that the blockade in Vancouver is running dangerously low on gunpowder. He knows about the deal I have struck with Ross and wants it to be expedited.’

‘How expedited?’ Jim asked and she shrugged. 

‘Enough to ask that we leave as soon as we are able.’ She sat back in her seat. ‘I might also add that according to Elias, the Company is getting extremely vexed with you and Ross and has taken measures to try and get rid of both of you.’

‘They’ve already tried that.’ Jim snorted. ‘We left their men lying in an alley.’

‘This will be different.’ Caroline countered. ‘I fear that they may try and do something far more serious.’

‘More serious than trying to kill us?’ Jim raised an eyebrow at her. ‘I should like to see them try.’

‘Don’t be so blasé.’ Caroline was stern. ‘This is not a game.’

‘Do you see me laughing?’ Jim was severe. ‘Believe me, I know all too well the risks we are all running.’

Jud came back with jam and bread and butter and set it down.

‘Not much, but I ain’t had time to go out.’ He set to making the tea and Caroline looked at Jim. 

‘How long would it take to have the ship ready to sail?’ she asked. 

‘If we get her loaded, then we could go tomorrow.’ Jim replied. ‘We have enough hands and I was taking Ross’ things across this morning before I got embroiled in this.’

‘Then I suggest we do that.’ Caroline replied. ‘I have an idea, although I think our chemist is not going to like it very much.’

**********

Elizabeth looked around the room George had given her to stay in. It was beautifully appointed and she smiled. Things were definitely looking up. 

Her trunk had been brought up and George had sent up his scullery maid to help her unpack. He had promised to engage her a proper maidservant but she was satisfied with the girl, who took instruction well and didn’t rip things.

She had now finished the job and Elizabeth dismissed her and went to look out the window. George’s house overlooked a square with lovely gardens and she imagined taking walks there. The feeling of giddiness at having taken her freedom back was delicious, although it was still tinged with outrage at what she’d discovered at Ross’ house. In fact, the longer she stood there the more Elizabeth felt dissatisfied with the outcome.

Ross had thought he could just pack her off to Cornwall. Well, she’d show him and get her revenge in one perfect move.

There was a knock at the door and George stuck his head in. 

‘Is everything to your liking?’ he asked and she nodded.

‘It’s all perfectly lovely.’ she said. ‘I cannot tell you how grateful I am.’ She watched the expression on his face change, his ego clearly basking in his role as her saviour. It would be child’s play to manipulate him and she now knew exactly where to start. God knew she’d had to listen to Francis’ drunken ramblings to know what the argument between George and Ross was about.

She bowed her head, assuming a look of abject misery and George came towards her. 

‘My dear?’ His concern was almost tangible. ‘Whatever is the matter?’

‘I am so sorry.’ Elizabeth managed to conjure up two perfect tears that slid down her cheeks. ‘I have come here under a cloud of deception.’

‘How so?’ George asked, his brows knitting together. ‘I appreciate our need for discretion until we can find your husband but believe me that we shall have this matter soon dealt with.’

‘You shan’t find Francis.’ Elizabeth choked out, injecting her voice with a plaintive note that made George take her hand. ‘Not living at any rate.’

‘What are you saying?’ George was being a little slow on the uptake and she sighed inwardly. 

‘It is not true that he made ill use of me.’ She raised her eyes to his, giving him her most imploring look. ‘These marks were made by another. The same man also killed my husband as he tried to protect me from my attacker’s brutal attentions.’ She saw the momentary confusion cross George’s face and prayed that he would take the bait. 

‘A man came to your home?’ he sounded astounded. 

‘For the sole purpose of violating me and talking what he has always desired.’ Elizabeth replied. She didn’t need to make her voice shake, her anger at what she’d suffered making her emotions real enough. ‘Francis arrived while he was attacking me and he was stabbed in the interim. I was threatened into silence and dispatched to my family in Cornwall. I came here instead. I knew I would find a friend in yourself.’ She clutched his hand tightly. ‘I fear greatly for my safety.’

‘You need not fear.’ George was the very spirit of confidence. ‘I have the power of the Company at my disposal. Tell me who this villain was and we shall have him arrested immediately.’ 

‘It was my brother.’ Elizabeth replied, satisfaction filling her as she played her cards. ‘Ross Poldark.’

********

‘You are both insane.’ Dwight said the words with complete certainty. ‘I am now utterly assured that you have all managed to somehow go mad in one night.’

‘It needs to be done, Dwight.’ Ross was so tired he barely had the energy to stand, let alone argue. He’d been woken by Jim and dragged from his bed to accompany him to the ship while Caroline had returned to give word to her masters. From the docks, they had taken one of the skiffs across the river to the opposite bank. 

‘It’s madness.’ Dwight repeated. ‘What you are asking me to do could result in this entire building coming down around my ears.’ He shook his head, hands on his hips. ‘It’s liable to blow up half the surrounding countryside and what’s left of us will not fit into a snuff box.’

‘Can it be done?’ Ross pressed and Dwight heaved a sigh. 

‘It can.’ He looked extremely unhappy. ‘Five days.’

‘We do not have five days.’ Caroline said. ‘Can it not be sooner?’

‘No.’ Dwight replied. ‘That is the most extreme estimate I can give. There is still every chance that the mixture will be so unstable even after the five days that any movement might cause it to react in transit and then it will be raining small pieces of us all over London.’

‘But it can mature on the ship?’ Jim asked. ’Providing we can get it there?’

‘Yes.’ Dwight conceded. ‘Providing we can get it there.’ 

‘Excellent.’ Ross looked at Jim. ‘What will you need?’

‘Urea.’ Dwight huffed. ‘I suggest the tanneries. You will also need to send me men. I will need them to help stir the mixture. If it is left to stand, its stability will be very much in doubt.’ 

‘Very well.’ Ross said. He sighed, his shoulders slumping. ‘This was not something we anticipated.’

‘No.’ Jim replied. ‘But it is something we can work around.’

‘Christ.’ Dwight muttered. ‘Have we any idea just how we are going to move this to the ship yet?’

‘That part is easy.’ Jim said. ‘Very carefully.’ He grinned and Dwight and Ross both glared at him. ‘What’s the easiest thing to move around the city?’

‘I should like to point out that I have had precious little sleep and am in no mood for riddles, Jim.’ Ross growled. ‘Now tell us the bloody plan.’

‘The dead.’ Jim replied. ‘Especially if they are suspected of being corrupt.’

‘I see.’ Dwight nodded, considering. ‘Something nasty. Cholera perhaps?’

‘That sounds perfect.’ Jim looked at Ross. ‘We fill the coffins with the gunpowder and ride them to the river then take them across to the Hispaniola by boat.’

‘Very carefully, I might add.’ Dwight interjected, unable to help himself judging by his crooked smile. 

‘Yes, very carefully.’ Jim agreed. ‘Once it is aboard we can transfer t to the barrels under Dwight’s supervision.’

‘Good.’ Ross nodded. ‘Jim, you head back to the Hispaniola. You’ll need to send the men Dwight needs and also start getting the ship ready to leave in five days. Be discreet about it to, I don’t want the Company getting wind of things.’

Jim nodded and he turned to Dwight. 

‘I’ll go and get the nitrates you need and have them taken to the ship. Then I need to make sure that everything is on order so that we can make a clean break.’

‘You’ve already done that.’ Jim said and Ross frowned. 

‘I need to do the same with the house.’ he said. ‘I cannot leave Jud in the lurch.’

Jim sighed. 

‘No.’ he looked at Dwight. ‘Good luck.’

‘Thank you.’ Dwight replied sourly. ‘Extend my regards to Caroline should I not survive this.’

**********

Warleggan sat and peered at the papers on his desk that Unwin had left for his perusal. He heard a commotion outside in the corridor and then looked up as George all but bolted into his office. 

‘What the devil is wrong with you?’ He gave his son a disapproving look. 

‘We have him!’ George looked somewhat beside himself. ‘We have the bastard!’

‘Will you pull yourself together and tell me just what on earth you are babbling on about.’ Warleggan ordered and George stood to catch his breath. 

‘I have Elizabeth Poldark in my house.’ he declared. ‘And she has just informed me that last night Ross Poldark killed her husband in cold blood.’

‘What!’ Warleggan was on his feet in a flash. ‘Is that true?’

‘I have no idea.’ George replied. ‘But the mere suspicion that it is enough for us to march right down to Wapping and apprehend him right now.’

‘Yes.’ Warleggan smiled. ‘It certainly is.’ He rang the silver bell on his desk. A few seconds later Unwin came in. ‘Unwin go tell the barracks commander that I need a squad of men.’

‘Yes sir.’ He scuttled off as quickly as he could. 

‘Go with them.’ Warleggan instructed. ‘I am going to talk to the board. If they are wise they’ll allow us to expedite matters and he’ll be hanged by supper time.’ He rubbed his hands together. ‘And with Ross Poldark gone we can get our hands on the island.’

‘No.’ George came up short. ‘He’s left it to the Americans. I told you.’

‘Yes, but your informant also told you that the document in question is held by the Trelawney law firm.’ Warleggan countered. ‘And if Poldark has a copy of it, it will no doubt be at Nampara.’

‘Exactly.’ George said. ‘How do you propose to get around that?’

‘Very easily.’ Warleggan said. ‘Now get moving. I want Ross Poldark under arrest and in the Tower by sundown.

*********

Ross and Jim rode along the wharf, both of them silent. As they approached the house, they saw a man standing in front of the gates. He glanced down the road and then ran towards them, startling Bathsheba. 

‘Unwin?’ Ross battled to get her under control. Unwin looked up at him, nearly frantic with fear. 

‘They’re coming for you, Ross.’ He was clearly out of breath and grabbed at Bathsheba’s reins. ‘The Company is coming to arrest you.’

‘What?’ Ross slid off Bathsheba’s back. ‘What the bloody hell are you talking about?’

‘Your sister has accused you of her husband’s murder.’ Unwin babbled. ‘She has told Francis that you attacked her and that Francis saved her life by intervening and in turn lost his own.’

‘Fuck!’ Ross felt his heart sink. He looked up at Jim and saw his face was stricken before turning back to Unwin. ‘You need to leave. If they find out you’ve told me yu'll be in a cell right alongside me.’

‘Ross.’ Jim slid off Gunpowder’s back. ‘You can’t…’

‘Too late.’ Ross was staring at the end of the street where a company of men in green were just marching into the road. ‘They’re here.’ He turned to Jim. ‘Get Unwin out of here and get to the ship. I will take care of this.’ 

‘No.’ Jim shook his head. ‘We can fight them.’

‘There are better ways to fight this.’ Ross handed Bathsheba’s reins to Jim. ‘I need you to see to things here. You must make sure everything goes as planned.’

Jim’s face was set, his mouth a flat line. 

‘I will get you out.’ he promised. 

‘I know you will.’ Ross replied, then caught him by the front of his coat and hauled him close, kissing him once and then letting him go. ‘You need to leave. Now.’ 

‘Jim threw the advancing soldiers a look and grabbed Unwin, shoving him at Gunpowder. 

‘Get on.’ he hissed and the clerk scrambled to get on the stallion’s back. Jim set him cantering down the street with a slap to his rump and then climbed on to Bathsheba’s back, gathering up her reins. 

‘Don’t do anything bloody stupid like getting yourself hanged, Ross Poldark.’ he admonished. ‘I want your arse back in one piece. Remember it belongs to me.’

‘Understood.’ Ross met his eyes. ‘I love you.’

‘Fucking hell.’ Jim tightened his grip, making Bathsheba dance on her hind legs before kicking her into a gallop and tearing down the road just as the soldiers reached where Ross was standing waiting. He gave them his most insolent grin and raised his hands. 

‘Gentlemen.’ he said. ‘How nice to see you.’

‘Ross Poldark, you are under arrest for the murder of your cousin, Francis Poldark.’ the sergeant in front said. ‘Please come with us.’

Ross looked up. George Warleggan was at the back, seated on a tall chestnut gelding. He gave Ross a triumphant look. 

‘You see, Poldark?’ His smile was arrogant and it made Ross want to drag him from his horse and beat him black and blue. ‘We told you we would get what we wanted.’

Ross met his eyes and lifted his chin defiantly. 

‘Don’t bloody count on it.’ he replied.


	28. The Tower

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ross is locked up, but will he stay that way?

The row of men were exhausted, barely able to even stay awake as they wielded their wooden paddles. One of them finally gave in, his eyes closing and his full weight going to the paddle as he started to doze.

Dwight looked up from his post at the last tub on the left. He couldn’t leave his own work so he hissed at the men next to the guilty party and the man gave him a quizzical look, then noticed what was happening and shoved his companion in the shoulder with his own.

Dwight let out a deep breath. They had all been on edge, no more so than Jim and himself. Ross’ detention had given them all pause, but Jim most of all.

As for himself, Dwight had been largely tied to the mill and for that he was very pleased. He did not want to be in the firing line but at the same time he sorely missed his visitor. Caroline had been absent, no doubt not wanting to give herself away. It didn’t matter, the powder would be done in one more day and then it was simply a case of leaving it dry for twenty-four hours and pack it into the coffins Jim had procured along with the necessary costume and transportation. Dwight hadn’t asked how he’d done it and he honestly didn’t want to know.

What he had been surprised to see was the change in Jim, the manner in which he had mobilised the men on his ship all under the Silver’s watchful eye. Dwight had learned just what it meant to be Silver’s lieutenant and that the people they were now working with, and there were many all keeping a watchful eye on the Company’s movements as they swarmed the docks, had a respect for Jim that he had not anticipated. Ross was the one whose brooding presence had cut a swathe through the docks, but now Dwight had been able to appreciate just how clever Jim was and also how feared his true reputation was. The men he’d sent to help Dwight were all twice his size and fiercer than a pack of dogs, but they stood quietly in the face of the seemingly mild blond man they towered over and listened to him without questioning.

Ever curious, Dwight listened in on their conversations as they worked in shifts, new ones coming to take over every twelve hours. He heard stories of how bodies had been found in the river, how anyone and everyone who’d so much as given the Company the time of day was ending up with their throats cut. He’d also witnessed the change with his own eyes. Jim had seemingly switched personalities overnight, the genial charming actor replaced by a man whose light eyes were cold and calculating. The golden tumble of curls was tied back in utilitarian fashion, there were silver rings in his ears and the clothing that was fashionably shabby had been discarded in favour of what Dwight now realised was Jim’s true costume. He looked unalike to one of the people whose midst he stalked through with not an ounce of fear, his light shirts and brown velvet replaced by grey linen and black wool, the stark shades making him look rather fearsome. He wore his axes openly in a tooled leather belt with a strap across the chest and when he spoke it was no longer with the beautifully rounded vowels of his stage speech. It was flat and angry and Dwight had to admit that even he was scared.

He’d come visiting regularly, riding Ross’ black mare and giving Dwight whatever resources he asked for. Dwight didn’t ask how he managed it, just took his duty seriously and they were now on the verge of having what they needed. The ship was fully supplied and by all accounts crewed and ready to sail at a moment’s notice.

All that was missing was Ross.

*********

‘For God’s sake!’ George slammed his fist on the desk. ‘They must agree!’

‘They have reservations, which is completely understandable.’ Warleggan replied. ‘This is why they have not signed the decree. Not only that, but the fact that they are using Poldark as their main suspect in the burglary of the warehouse in an effort to get them off our backs means that hanging him without the Crown’s say-so would be out of the question.’ He sat back and regarded George. ‘Mrs Poldark has furnished you with her statement, at least.’

‘Yes.’ George now frowned. It had taken three days to persuade Elizabeth to tell her story to the Company lawyer. George had had to ask the man to go to his house because she had refused to come to the offices. Still he now had a piece of paper with her name on it damning Ross Poldark for a capital crime.

‘Have the troops turned up anything?’ Warleggan asked and now George scowled in displeasure.

‘The sneaky bastard made sure that wherever he disposed of Francis Poldark was well hidden.’ he replied. ‘Nothing has been found.’

‘Yet another reason we cannot pursue our chosen course of action.’ said. ‘Still, it has given us time to attempt to reason with him.’

‘That has done exactly bugger all.’ George snorted. ‘He’s refused to even entertain the idea.’

Warleggan sighed, clearly annoyed. George was about to speak when a clerk entered the office and Warleggan beckoned him over. He took the piece of paper that the man handed to him and read it, his eyebrows going up.

‘Maybe we should pay yet another visit to Mr Poldark.’ He pressed his lips together in a humourless smile. ‘See if he’ll be ready to change his mind when we show him this.’ He held out the piece of paper.

‘What is it?’ George asked.

‘The old fools have finally seen sense.’ Warleggan replied. ‘That is a decree to have Ross Poldark hanged at five o’clock this afternoon. It seems that they found Francis Poldark.’

**********

Caroline stood at the window of her room, her mind racing.

The turn of events had been a particularly unwelcome one. It had also taken every bit of Elias’ influence to make sure that the Company had not simply hanged Ross with little concern for legality, something he’d told her Warleggan and his son had been set on since the first day. The Company had no idea he was one of their rank, thinking him simply a man who sat on the board by virtue of his father’s position before him.

‘Darling?’ Her mother’s voice made her turn. ‘Are you all right?’

‘Yes.’ Caroline looked at her and gave her a smile. ‘Why do you ask?’

‘Because I have just spoken to you three times and you did not even notice.’ Lady Penvenen came over. ‘I must say that I think I may know why?’

‘Really.’ Caroline’s mouth quirked. ‘And why would that be?’

‘You look the same as you did when you met Kit.’ Lady Penvenen reached and gently drew back a stray lock of hair from Caroline’s face. ‘I think you might have met someone you could love again.’

She left Caroline at the window, her mind now completely distracted by her mother’s words. She thought about laughing blue eyes and a merriment that belied the sharp mind that worked behind it. Jim had kept her informed as to their progress and she knew that in two days the Hispaniola would be sailing. He also had something else afoot, but he wouldn’t share his plans for Ross with her and Caroline didn’t blame him.

It had given her something to think about through.

She’d been packing in secret, a trunk in one of the unused rooms serving her purpose nicely. Caroline had been sensible, not taking much and making sure everything would be something she’d need. Today she would have the trunk delivered to the Hispaniola and then she would join them once she had made her excuses. She hadn’t told Dwight nay of this, firstly because she had not been able to see him and secondly because she wanted to see the surprise on his face when he was confronted with the fact that she was very serious about accepting his proposal.

*********

Unwin walked down the corridor, his step quick and almost panicked. Thankfully his reputation for being highly strung was well known in the Company and nobody paid him the slightest bit of attention. Similarly, the fact that his arms were full of folios and documents drew no attention, especially seeing that it was lunch time and most staff were concerned with their stomachs.

He walked down the stairs that led to the courtyard, looking around him nervously. He left the building and walked along the wall until he got to an alcove and stepped inside, opening the small door that was covered in verdigris. He ducked inside, and then lit the candle he’d secreted there, jumping when he turned around and saw that the person he was meant to be seeing had already arrived.

‘You’re very jumpy.’ Jim’s voice was cold. ‘Do you have it?’

‘It’s taken me days to find it.’ Unwin protested as he set down the pile of documents. He rifled through them until he came up with a slender leather folio and handed it to Jim. ‘You’re taking an awful risk coming here like this.’

‘They’re looking for Jim Hawkins, not James Silver. Believe me, I am very capable of not being recognised when I choose.’ Jim opened the folio and looked at the documents. ‘Did you read these?’

‘Only to confirm they were the ones you wanted.’ Unwin said. ‘No more than that.’ His voice shook. ‘What is this?’

‘A last ditch effort to force their hand and get Ross released.’ Jim took the papers from the folio and folded them up before tucking them inside his coat. ‘What is the latest?’

‘They are going to see him today.’ Unwin replied. ‘I fear that if he doesn’t acquiesce this time the board will finally lose their patience and have him hanged.’

‘Not while I still draw breath.’ Jim retorted.

‘The Tower is impregnable.’ Unwin pointed out. ‘There is no way in or out.’

Jim nodded thoughtfully.

‘True.’ He looked at Unwin. ‘But then they haven’t come up against us.’ He put a hand on Unwin’s shoulders. ‘You need to leave. Disappear. Your life won’t be worth anything once we put things into place. The Company will imprison you if they don’t hang you first.’ He dug in one pocket and took out a small leather pouch. ‘Here. Consider our arrangement terminated.’

Unwin nodded, clutching the bag as Jim opened the door and left without another word. He waited for at least twenty minutes and then did the same, not looking back once.

**********

Warleggan climbed down from the carriage. The guard in front of him nodded and turned, leading them through the guard house archway and through to the courtyard the house the cells where they kept their most valueble prisoners.

‘He’s still much the same.’ the guard said. ‘Quite frankly, he’s starting to frighten the men, sir. He mutters all sorts of nonsense, shouts at all hours. Are you sure he’s not mad?’

‘Quite sure.’ Warleggan threw George a look over his shoulder. ‘He’s eating?’

‘Oh yes.’ The guard got to the turret in front of them and the man on guard at the door stepped aside while he took his ring of keys from his belt and unlocked the massive iron bound door. He pulled it back and they went inside. There was another guard sitting at a wooden table and he stood as they came towards him.

‘Report.’ The man guiding them instructed and he looked up towards the staircase that lead to the floors above.

‘He’s still the same.’ The guard replied. ‘Ate breakfast. Screamed a bit.’ He looked twitchy and Warleggan wondered why.

‘Thank you.’ The guard looked at Warleggan. ‘Sir?’

‘Shall we go up?’ Warleggan turned to George. ‘It’s time to put an end to this matter.’

***********

Ross sat, back to the wall and the stone floor cool and damp underneath him.

He looked at the thin beam of light that was coming from the slit in the wall which was his only source of light and ventilation. The conditions inside were less than pleasant, a straw pallet and a bucket in the corner his only concessions to anything resembling comfort.

He breathed in deeply, trying to calm the storm in his mind. The very air here was stepped in pain and distress, centuries of torture and death staining the very foundations on this place and it was maddening. Ross could almost taste it, acrid in his mouth and coating his tongue with an ashy film.

He’d been holding on as tightly as he could, trying not to let the tormented souls that came drifting in and out of his cell drive him to the edge. He had held onto his memories of sea eyes and warm skin under his hands and kept away from that edge that tempted him to just let go of his control and jump over it.

George had come to see him every day since he’d been imprisoned. Ross had said nothing, simply looked at him in silence while George had baited him, had railed against his arrogance and stupidity before trying to wheedle him into signing an agreement that would hand over power of Nampara Island to the company in exchange for his freedom. He’d bargained with him, saying that all he needed was to give them what they wanted and it would all be over. Ross had ignored him and smiled internally when it drove George into a rage and the bargaining had changed to threats. He’d produced the signed statement that Elizabeth had given him, stating that it was only a short time before they found Francis’ body and he would be dangling from the end of a rope.

Ross knew as well as he did that he was desperate. In truth he was amazed that he hadn’t been hanged yet and could only put that down to the Company’s desire to get him to hand over ownership of the island. It didn’t matter. He’d been waiting for something to happen and now he was finally ready to do what he knew he had to. It wasn’t something he wanted to do which was why he’d been delaying, but now he could see it was the only way he was going to get out. The Tower was well known for being impossible to get into and he couldn’t blame Jim for not being able to extricate him from this situation. He did worry though, not for himself but for the others. The Company was not a patient institution and he knew it was only a matter of time before something happened. He would have to take the initiative and make the first move.

The sound of footsteps reached him and Ross tipped his head back, his greasy curls in his eyes and his skin crawling with the suppressed magic that surrounded him. He was now ready to let it loose and bring this farce to an end.

A key was inserted and the door creaked open. Warleggan and George came in. They waited as the guard went back out and brought in the table and chairs they kept for their visits, setting it up and then leaving them alone.

Warleggan flicked his coat out behind him and sat, distaste evident on his face as he surveyed their surroundings. George came to stand at his father’s shoulder.

‘Mr Poldark.’ He gestured to the chair opposite him. ‘Please.’

Ross snorted.

‘I have nothing to say to you.’ He looked up at him. ‘You’re wasting your time and mine.’

‘I am of the opinion that you might well change your mind.’ Warleggan placed a piece of paper on the table. ‘I have here a decree from the Company board that gives us the permission we need to hang you today. Our troops have found your cousin’s body and we have your step-sister’s statement.’

‘What about my trial?’ Ross asked, looking back down at his hands. ‘Or has the word of law been completely disposed with?’

‘You forget who you are dealing with.’ Warleggan’s voice was icy. ‘Inside these words, the Company is all the law that is needed.’

‘No.’ Ross glanced up. ‘It’s not. Otherwise you would have killed me the first night I was brought here.’ He smiled. ‘You need me, that’s why I am still alive.’

‘You know what you have to do.’ Warleggan sounded perfectly reasonable now. ‘I can have the transfer papers drawn up in an hour.’

‘And what?’ Ross chuckled. ‘You’ll have Elizabeth retract what she has said? Magic Francis’ body away?’ He got up, his body protesting at the inactivity he’d enforced on it and came to sit down, gratified to see Warleggan flinch back involuntarily. ‘I am going to hang which means Jim gets my share of Nampara. He’ll be even less inclined to deal with you than I am.’

‘Mr Hawkins can be disposed of.’ Warleggan was curt and Ross could see the anger starting to flash in his normally dead eyes.

‘Maybe. Maybe not.’ Ross leaned back in his chair, arms folded. ‘I think you’ll find that quite difficult to do.’

‘We have you here, do we not?’ Warleggan pointed out. His lip curled in a sneer. ‘We also have it on good authority that Mr Hawkins is involved in an intimate relationship with you, according to Mrs Poldark. That is still a hanging crime in this city and actors are well known for being sodomites.’

That was the final straw. Ross had been waiting and the threat against Jim was enough to make him clench his fists and drop his head, fighting for control over the rage that filled him.

‘You will leave him be.’ he growled. ‘Or there shall be consequences.’

‘What consequences?’ George scoffed. ‘We have you by the balls, Poldark.’

Ross smiled and locked eyes with Warleggan.

‘He doesn’t know, does he?’ he asked.

‘Careful, Poldark.’ Warleggan’s eyes were narrowed.

‘Know about what?’ George looked between them. ‘Father?’

‘Tell him.’ Ross urged, now delighted as he saw Warleggan’s arrogance melt away. ‘Tell him about the night I left. George was in my barracks at the academy. He knows the value of following orders.’

‘Enough.’ Warleggan warned. ‘Or I will have your tongue cut out.’

‘I went to him the night I left my own home.’ Ross said this to George. ‘I wanted to be far from my father and Elizabeth. So he offered me passage on a ship to Africa.’

‘What does this have to do with anything?’ George snorted.

‘That ship was bound for the west coast.’ Ross said, his eyes not leaving Warleggan’s face. ‘I thought it was a merchant voyage. And it was. Just not for the cargo I thought we would be carrying.’

‘Enough!’ Warleggan roared, bringing his fist down on the table. ‘You cannot prove a single word of this.’

‘No, but if I make enough noise people will talk.’ Ross countered. ‘I am quite prepared to make a dying declaration on the scaffold.’

‘Father, what is he talking about?’ George asked. ‘I do not understand.’

‘Slaves.’ Ross huffed with humourless laughter. ‘It was a slave ship. And in a time when the law of abolition has made it very clear that anyone caught trading in them will be liable to hang. I was deemed dispensible, a young cadet who wouldn’t be missed. The argument with my father and my absconding meant that no-one would look for me should I never return.’ He fixed Warleggan with a look. ‘The entire ship was expendable. That storm took your cargo and the insurance paid out handsomely. What you didn’t know was that I escaped.’

‘You’re deluded.’ Warleggan replied. ‘Your’ mother’s madness seems to have been passed on to you. The Company would not deal with slavers or take part in such illegal activities.’ He smiled. ‘Not a single person in London will believe this preposterous story. Now I have taken enough time trying to persuade you. It is clear that you will not sign so I see no further reason to continue this conversation.’ He was about to get up when Ross placed both hands on the table.

‘Sit down.’ He breathed the words and Warleggan’s face twisted.

‘You do not command me to do anything, Poldark.’ he hissed.

‘No.’ Ross closed his eyes and let the power inside him uncurl, the darkness at the edge of his consciousness starting to well up and swirl around him. ‘They do.’

He opened his eyes and looked up, seeing the fear on their faces as they saw the change in him, the way his eyes bled to black.

‘What are you doing?’ Warleggan sounded on the verge of panic and Ross smiled.

‘There are some people here who wish to have a word with you, Mr Warleggan.’ He smiled. ‘And they are not particularly happy.’

Warleggan and George shrank back as the entire cell suddenly darkened. The walls faded into planking, curving to form the hold of a ship. The bulkheads were running with water, the light taking on a sickening greenish hue and the iron barred hatch overhead showing that outside a storm raged, lightning lighting up the figures inside the hold. They were all standing as one, hands raised to the hatch as they pleaded and lamented in a language Ross had never understood. Around his feet he felt the water start to rise, lapping at his ankles.

‘What the hell is this?’ Warleggan was shouting, his voice now nearly drowned out as the winds began to rage, thunder punctuating the horrible wail that rose up around them.

‘This is your legacy.’ Ross replied, his entire being suffused with a calm he rarely felt. ‘This is your curse.’

‘Father!’ George was holding onto Warleggan’s arm, the fear and panic in his voice unmistakeable.

‘Stop this!’ Warleggan bellowed. ‘Now!’

‘You cannot command them as you command others.’ Ross explained. ‘They do not listen.’

‘Make it stop!’ Warleggan was on his feet, he and George yelling as the water rose, now to their knees. Around them the apparitions wailed and cried for mercy but Ross knew that none would be forthcoming. He knew that there was no way out. He’d followed the commands he’d been given and nailed the hold shut so that none would escape.

‘Your money and influence means nothing here.’ He could feel the terror building around him, the terror of the souls about to be taken before their rightful time. ‘It couldn’t save me and it shall not save you.’

He watched them hammering against the bulkhead where the door to his cell had once been and felt nothing. A gentle hand came down on his shoulder and he looked at it, the delicate shape and pale skin telling who the owner was.

_Ross._

Ross reached for the hand, just as he’d reached for it when he’d been under the water and it had guided him back to life. The water in the hold was now at his waist, dark and frigid and lulling him back down. It would be so easy to just let go and relent to the darkness.

_No. You cannot. He is waiting for you._

That pulled Ross back. He thought of Jim, the love he’d only recently found.

_Yes. Hold on to that._

Ross looked up and saw his mother, her face filled with the same unconditional love that he saw in Jim's.

‘I will.’ he whispered. ‘I promise.’

The water was now higher and even as it crested the table, even as it bubbled up and covered his face Ross let go and took the control back, bringing it under his governance and as quickly as it had come the nightmare faded around them.

He blinked once and the cell reappeared, any sign of the ship gone. At the door George and Warleggan were clinging to each other, fear etched on their faces. There were shouts on the other side and then the door flew open, the guards standing there with wild eyes.

‘We tried to open it, sir.’ The senior guard was in a near state. ‘It would not give way.’

Warleggan shook George off and righted himself, smoothing his hair with one hand.

‘Take him.’ he snarled. ‘Bugger the order. I want this man hanged without delay!’

Ross started laughing even as the guards came and laid their hands on him. He felt free, more than he had since he’d left his father’s house.

Warleggan and George followed them down the stairs, and out into the courtyard. The bright light made Ross blink, his eyes hurting from the sun he’d not seen for four days. He stumbled once and the guards dragged him along, his boots catching on the cobbles.

They neared the archway that led through to another courtyard and then Ross heard it, shouts and angry voices. He peered at the men that now poured through the tunnel, their red coats declaring them to be King’s Guard. They came and surrounded them, rifles pointed and the sunlight glinting off their bayonets, and Warleggan went a particularly spectacular shade of purple.

‘What are you fucking doing here!’ He was apoplectic with anger.

‘Cary Warleggan.’ The man in charge was a captain. ‘You are under arrest on the authority of The Prince Regent. You are to come with us.’ He nodded at his men. ‘Take him.’

‘No!’ Warleggan struggled against the men take took hold of him. ‘This will not stand!’ he looked at George, his eyes frantic. ‘Do something you imbecilic child!’

George was rooted to the spot, seemingly unable to even react to what was happening.

The captain watched his men drag Warleggan away. Then he turned to Ross and the men still holding him.

‘Release him.’ His voice was sharp. ‘Now.’

The guards let Ross go and he stood, completely bemused by what was happening.

‘What is this?’ he asked and the captain smiled.

‘You are free to go, Mr Poldark.’ He gestured for him to accompany him. ‘It seems you have some friends in high places.’

Ross went, walking with him until they got to the entrance to the Tower. They filed through and his heart leaped in his chest as he saw a carriage waiting for him. He was walked to the door, the driver holding it open for him and ushered inside.

He got in and stared at the person inside. Caroline smiled at him and the door slammed shut, the carriage lurching as it rumbled off.

‘Apologies for the late rescue.’ she said. ‘But it seems we have come in the nick of time.’

‘I am very grateful.’ Ross replied. ‘Regardless of the tardiness.’

‘Don’t thank me.’ Caroline smirked. ‘Thank your extremely resourceful partner. He had the brilliant notion that if Warleggan had been running slaves under the command of the Company, it would stand to reason that there would be some sort of record. He was correct as it turns out and now Cary Warleggan has a great deal of explaining to do.’

‘How?’ Ross asked and her smile was gleeful.

‘Your little spy in the Company has spent the past four days rooting through every archive until he found what Jim was looking for.’ she explained. ‘He delivered the documents into Jim’s hands this morning and is now safely squirrelled away where the long arm of the Company will not be able to reach him. Jim handed over the papers to me and I handed them over to Elias. There is some good in having one of the most high ranking peers in London on our side. He was able to present them to a legal adviser of the Crown and a warrant issued.’

‘But what of my charges?’ Ross asked. ‘They will still stand.’

‘The legality of your arrest is under question.’ Caroline continued. ‘The arrest should have been applied for at the Watch. Wapping is out of the Company’s jurisdiction. They have no power there.’

‘Very clever.’ Ross slumped in his seat. ‘And now?’

‘Now I deliver you to your ship, Mr Poldark.’ Caroline said. ‘All you have to do is keep your nose clean and then we will be far from the reach of the Company and its authority.’

‘We?’ Ross gave her a questioning look. Caroline didn’t answer, just gave him a mysterious little smile.

They rode in silence for the rest of the journey until they reached the docks. Here the carriage stopped and the door opened.

‘You’re not coming with me?’ Ross asked and Caroline shook her head.

‘I have an errand to run.’ she replied. ‘You will hear from me soon enough.’

Ross nodded and got out, stretching and inhaling the fresh air. He watched the carriage ride away and then walked down the wharf to the ships at the end, coming to stand at the side of the Hispaniola. He was so busy staring at it and contemplating his freedom that he didn’t hear the footsteps behind him until a gentle touch on his arm startled him out of his fugue. He wheeled around and inhaled sharply at the man standing behind him.

Jim gave him a long look up and down and then smiled, dimples flickering.

‘You look terrible.’ he observed. Ross did the same and then frowned at his drastic change in appearance.

‘And you look like a pirate.’ he countered.

Jim laughed, blue-green eyes sparkling.

‘Well it’s good to see your powers of observation were not impaired by your incarceration.’ He nodded at the ship. ‘Are you ready to go aboard, Mr Poldark.’

‘Not quite.’ Ross caught him around the waist pulled him into a kiss that was definitely not fit for company, smiling against Jim’s mouth when he felt how he’d clearly caught him off guard. He finally let him go and was gratified to see that Jim was a little breathless.

‘Now I am ready.’ he declared and walked past him.


	29. Burning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The day before the sailing...

There was now only one thing standing between them and being able to leave without looking back and they were staring at it. All sixty kegs of it.

‘You haven’t dried it properly.’ Ross was scowling and Dwight huffed. 

‘I didn’t exactly have time.’ he muttered. ‘This has all been far too sudden for my liking.’

‘So now what?’ Ross was starting to get angry, not at Dwight but at the entire sorry episode of the past four days. ‘We abandon what we have done and leave empty handed. Caroline wants us to leave with the earliest tide tomorrow evening. The powder must be moved tonight.’

‘I would advise most strongly against it.’ Dwight folded his arms. ‘This is not a toy, Ross. This could kill all of us.’

Ross turned to Jim and Jim gave him a one shouldered shrug.

‘It’s up to you.’ he said. 

‘Then we move it.’ Ross stated and Dwight made a frustrated noise and bowed his head. 

‘You’re mad.’ He looked at Ross, his face set before he glanced at Jim. ‘And so is he for letting you think this is anything resembling a wise idea.’ He snorted. ‘You two truly deserve each other.’ He stomped off, muttering under his breath and Ross walked over to inspect one of the barrels. The gunpowder was a strange consistency, far from the refined and ground powder that he was used to seeing. This looked like twisted pellets, the lustre on their surface almost greasy. He was tempted to reach out and touch it, this key to his ambitions, but knew that it was still far too unstable. 

‘Tonight?” Jim asked and he nodded. 

‘We’ll leave it until after the watch changes.’ He turned and walked out the mill and Jim followed, falling into step beside him. 

‘The ship is set to sail tomorrow.’ he said and Ross glanced down at him. ‘Is there anything else you have yet to do because once we embark it will be too late.’

‘I have one thing.’ They got to where the horses were tied and he mounted up. Jim did the same and they started the ride from the mill and back towards Southwark. 

‘What is that?’ Jim asked. He pulled Gunpowder in close and Ross smiled and did the same so their knees brushed. 

‘Jud.’ Ross said. ‘And Trelawney. I must settle with both of them.’

‘Is it wise to head back into the city?’ Jim asked. ‘I appreciate you hate things being left unresolved, but it seems a little foolhardy considering you current standing with the Company. I fear that it will only a little while before the younger Warleggan tries his luck.’

‘Let him try.’ Ross growled. ‘I have had a bellyful of the Warleggans and the fucking Company. I am in the mood for a roust.’

Jim laughed and his blue-green eyes sparkled as he looked at Ross. 

‘I worried for you.’ He said. ‘There was a moment I thought we might not get you out.’

‘And you managed it all without having to resort to using Dwight’s powder.’ Ross chuckled. ‘I was half expecting you to blow a hole in the wall.’

‘Would it have impressed you if I had?’ Jim had a teasing little smile on his face and it drove a powerful surge of want through Ross. He’d been exhausted mentally and physically the night before, consuming three bowls of Billy’s most excellent beef stew before availing himself of his new cabin and keeling over, sleeping a deep dreamless sleep until well past noon. 

He’d been awoken by Jim, then accompanied him after a shave, a wash and a change of clothing had made him look more like himself. 

Now though, Ross wanted something else. 

He looked around. They were on a particularly lonely stretch of road that led from the mill onto a larger road that eventually led into the hamlet that was the closest thing to habitation that was in the vicinity. Up ahead was an arch of trees, birch and larch and oak, and Ross smiled to himself. He waited until they were under the overhanging branches before he put his plan into action. 

Jim was taken completely by surprise, his stifled cry when Ross leaned over far enough to grab him around the waist and kiss him merely inflaming him further. He hauled Jim right out of the saddle and onto Bathsheba and Jim laughed against his mouth and put up a very poor struggle to get free. 

‘You bloody fool.’ He managed to shove Ross off for a moment. ‘What the hell are you doing?’

‘Thanking you properly.’ Ross explained as he rode them into the trees. ‘Now get off and go stand over against that tree.’

Jim laughed again and did as instructed, sliding off Bathsheba’s back. Gunpowder had been completely nonplussed by the entire affair and was now at the side of the road cropping the grass. Ross swung one leg over Bathsheba’s back and did the same, stalking to where Jim was now standing smirking at him with his back against a rather large oak tree. Ross went straight to him, hands on Jim’s hips as he pressed him back against the tree and kissed him, licking at Jim’s mouth until he gave Ross entry and responded, their tongues tangling and their breathing changing to low growls as they fought back against each other. Ross’ coat soon ended up on the ground and Jim’s was not far behind, both of them now in their shirtsleeves and hanging onto each other tightly. 

‘Ross.’ Jim was panting as Ross tore himself away from that lush mouth and nosed at his neck instead, licking over the soft skin just under Jim’s ear and then kissing his way along his jaw until they shared breath again.

‘Turn around.’ The words were a low snarl and Jim did, pushing Ross away long enough for Ross to slam him back against the tree, hands under Jim’s shirt and working the buttons of his trouser loose enough to run one hand over the soft hair on Jim’s stomach, going lower until he could take Jim’s cock in his hand and stroke hard enough to make Jim whine like a beaten dog and thrust up into his hand. Ross mimicked his actions, rubbing up against his backside, his own cock filling out quickly as the fire caught him and consumed him. He could feel the wetness from Jim’s cock on his hand, using his thumb to spread it over the head. Jim dropped his head back against Ross’ shoulder and moaned and Ross nosed aside his curls to gently bite him on the side of the neck. He brought the fingers of his other hand to his mouth, wetting them and then dipping under Jim’s clothes at the back and reaching in for what he wanted. 

Jim’s cry was shaky, the breach of Ross’s fingers making him bear down. Ross worked one in slowly, then withdrew and got to his knees, taking Jim’s trousers with him to mid-thigh before he took hold of his hips and leaned in, tongue dragging over him in a long slow lick that made Jim swear and spread his legs as best he could, fingernails digging into the bark of the tree. He let go long enough to get rid of his shirt, reaching back to tangle his fingers in Ross’ hair and pull, making Ross growl at him as he pushed his tongue as far as he could go. He pulled pack, pulling Jim open and spitting onto his skin, working it in with his fingers and then going back to using his mouth. 

‘Fuck.’ Jim was hoarse, his grip tightening as Ross eased two fingers into him and felt along, rubbing over that place inside him that made his body tighten convulsively around Ross’ fingers. 

‘I feared that I might never get to do this again.’ Ross kissed his backside and smiled as he looked up, Jim laughed and twisted around to look at him. 

‘Get up here and fuck me.’ he ordered and Ross was up in a flash, braces down and shirt off as he kicked Jim’s feet apart and then undid his own buttons to get his cock out. He spat into his hand a few times, spit and slick combining as he stroked himself a few times before guiding himself in. It was tight and Jim hissed at the drag but didn’t push him away and Ross eased in until he was all the way inside him, the vicelike heat around his cock too good to allow him to control himself for any length of time. 

Jim had both hands against the tree trunk to brace himself, Ross’ deep thrusts lifting him onto the balls of his feet. Ross reached up, placing one hand over his to hold him in place, the other running over Jim’s chest, lingering at his nipple and circling slowly before coming up to sit at his throat. He squeezed lightly and Jim gasped and pushed back onto his cock. 

He drove in hard, keeping them pressed against each other as he fucked Jim slow and deep. Their panting fell into time, every touch leaving scorch marks on their skin. Jim turned his head and Ross kissed him, their mouths not properly aligned so it turned messy and wet quickly. He dropped his hand from Jim’s throat to his cock, the skin now slippery, and worked it hard and fast. Jim started to shout, his cries breaking through the silence as they threw themselves into each other. Ross bit down on Jim’s shoulder, his own cries muffled as he tongued skin that was now salty with sweat in spite of the gloomy day. 

‘God, Ross…’ Jim sounded desperate, moving with him and bearing down hard around his cock. 

Ross let go if Jim’s hand, grabbing a fistful of blond curls and pulling his head back, driving in to the hilt as he came. He didn’t stop, feeling Jim’s own spend on his hand a few moments later as he followed. It was intense, both of them lost in it until they finally stopped shaking long enough for Ross to pull out and then collapse against him. Jim panted softly, then laughed as he looked to the side. 

‘They probably think we’re insane.’ He sounded almost delirious and Ross looked to where he was staring. Bathsheba and Gunpowder were giving them both looks of equine bemusement, grass sticking out the sides of their mouths. He chuckled and kissed the side of Jim’s neck. 

‘Is this considered thanks enough?’ He nosed at Jim’s ear. ‘What say you, my golden one?’

‘That is altogether the most ridiculous thing you have ever said to me.’ Jim laughed and smiled at him, dimple just visible. 

‘Even more ridiculous than the fact that I find myself completely enamoured with you.’ he asked.

‘Quite possibly.’ Jim smiled. 

They disentangled themselves and got redressed, getting back on the horses and continuing their ride, Ross smirking at the way Jim threw him disgruntled looks as the effects of their little interlude made themselves know. He caught Ross’ look and glared at him. 

‘Next time you’re the one with a soggy arse.’ he sniped and Ross laughed, too happy to care.

*******

George sat at his father’s desk and contemplated revenge.

Warleggan was being held at His Majesty’s pleasure, thankfully in one of the watch houses as opposed to Newgate. He had not been allowed to see him and was furious, so much so that now he was on a one man crusade to take action against the men that had obstructed them at every turn.

George had felt sure that the case against Ross would stand, but now Elizabeth had made a retraction of her statement, saying that she’d made it under great emotional duress and that Ross had in fact been the one who had been protecting her from a husband and the Company had decided it was a case of self-defence. Now, he was even more livid, convinced that the fact that Ross Poldark was a free man had terrified her into doing so. 

George wanted so badly to make a strike against him and that uppity little actor that he was in collusion with. He had limited means at his disposal and the Company was now washing their hands of the entire affair. That left him little recourse to anything legal, but then again George was not in the mood to abide by Company rules when they had done so little to refute the evidence against his father.

He got up, taking his things from the footman on his way out. He had one last favour to call in and he was going to make the most of it.

*********

Silver surveyed the men aboard as they made the last of the preparations to sail with the tide the following day. There was an empty hold for the powder, well below the water line. The forward compartments were stocked with provisions and the crew had all claimed their own space for their hammocks and stowed their sea chests aboard. 

‘John?’ It was Flint. He had been busy inspecting the guns and setting aside stores of ammunition, but now he came to stand next to Silver and leaned on the rail. ‘Is everything ready?’

‘All’s ready.’ Silver was almost itching with the need to get underway. It had been three years since he’d been at sea and his very soul felt like it was crying out for it.

‘Tonight is going to be tricky.’ Flint mused. ‘This is a very good way to get us all hanged.’

‘Ross knows what he’s doing.’ Silver replied. ‘So far there hasn’t been a sniff in our direction. The ship has been kept safe throughout this ordeal. God knows that he could have sold us all out to save his own skin in there. How far do you think the Company and the Crown would give to have us both in their hands?’

‘True.’ Flint grinned. 

*********

Ross came out of the stable and crossed the courtyard, stopping to scrape the mud off his boots before he went into the kitchen. Jim had gone to the ship to alert the others as to the situation, and he was going to have a long overdue conversation with Jud.

He went inside and then stopped short as he saw that Jud was not alone. He was at the kitchen table with a woman that Ross knew had to be Prudie, even though they had never actually met. She was a rough faced woman with hair that had not yet turned grey and she gave Ross a considering look, getting up as he approached. 

‘Ross.’ Jud nodded at his wife. ‘This is Prudie.’

‘No need to stand on ceremony.’ Ross said to her. ‘Jud certainly doesn’t.’

Prudie looked a little surprised but went to the stove as Ross sat down, coming back with the coffee pot. 

‘Well, it’s good to make your acquaintance, sir.’ she said and poured him a cup. 

‘Prudie came back while you were out.’ Jud explained. ‘Turns out there wasn’t as much as she’d hoped. That sort of puts all our plans on ‘old.’

‘Well, that is a predicament.’ Ross hid a smile. He’d been thinking long and hard about what he wanted to do and his last act as the keeper of Nampara would be to place it in hands he knew would look after it. ‘In that case, I might well have a solution to your problem.’ Jud and Prudie both looked at him, frowning as they clearly had no idea what he was alluding to. ‘I have decided that I have no more need of this house. It’s full of bad memories and ghosts that need exorcising. So, with that in mind I shall require you to come with me tomorrow morning before I depart for the Americas and we shall visit Trelawney where you will become the new owners of this dilapidated piece of real estate.’

Jud and Prudie had the exact same reaction, which was to simply stare at him. Their eyes widened comically and Ross grinned. 

‘What the bloody hell are you talkin’ about boy?’ Jud blustered. 

‘I mean that Nampara is yours as from tomorrow.’ Ross replied. ‘I am hading over ownership to you and Prudie. You may do with it as you wish, although I would advise you to sell it. It will worth a good amount and you can buy your cottage down in Cornwall and be done with cleaning up after ungrateful grumpy bastards like myself.’

‘I don’t know what to say.’ Jud looked at a loss for words. His blue eyes were watery when he looked up at Ross. Prudie elbowed him and gave him a look. 

‘You say yes, you old bleeder.’ She was now all smiles. ‘That’s awful generous of you, sir.’

‘Your husband was more of a father to me than my own was.’ Ross said the words to her, but he was looking at Jud. ‘I might well have met the gallows before now if I hadn’t had his hand in my upbringing.’

‘Pshaw.’ Jud muttered. ‘Now you talk a lot of nonsense.’ 

‘No, I have no sense of humour so could hardly make a joke out of this.’ Ross said with a completely straight face. ‘Nampara is now your home.’

‘Blimey.’ Jud say back and stared at Prudie. ‘All right, boy. I accept.’

‘Excellent.’ Ross replied. ‘Now can I suggest we break out something stronger to toast your good fortune?’

*********

George was still in the office long after time had passed and the clerks and other staff had left the building. He was waiting for someone in particular and had dispatched his attendants so he was now alone in the office. The man he was expecting knew his way around and was quite familiar with his father’s office, having been engaged by him on several occasions. 

He didn’t hear anything so when he looked up and saw the man in the doorway, hands folded in front of him and his face in shadow under his hat which he’d not bothered to remove, George started and almost knocked over the glass of wine he had at hand. 

The man grinned, showing a tooth that gleamed gold, and came over to take the chair opposite the desk. He flicked out the tails of his coat and sat down, crossing one leg over the other. 

‘You have a job for me?’ His voice had an amused tone to it. 

‘I do.’ George reached into a desk drawer and withdrew a small leather bag, tossing it to him over the desk. ‘Two things in fact. The first is I want Ross Poldark dead. I have it on good authority that he arrived back at Nampara this very afternoon and has not the house since. I want it to look like an accident. I cannot afford to have it come back to me.’

‘And the other?’ the man asked. 

‘The ship.’ George’s face was set, his mouth a thin, angry line. ‘I want it sunk or burned, I do not care which.’ 

‘Aye.’ The man nodded. ‘That is easily accomplished. Ships carry many things that can ignite with the slightest provocation.’

‘Excellent.’ George said. ‘My father has had many satisfactory dealings with you, Mr Vane. I trust that our association will be mutually beneficial.’

‘I am sure it will.’ The gold tooth flashed again. ‘As long as you keep paying, Mr Warleggan.’

‘I would pay every last penny I have to see that man bought down.’ George spat. ‘Ross Poldark is a bastard of the first waters. I want his head on a spike.’

‘That might be a little out of your price range.’ Vane chuckled. ‘Besides, we want it to look accidental.’

‘Yes.’ George scowled. He gave Vane a little wave of his hand. ‘Thank you, Vane. You may go.’

Vane got up, grinning. ‘You’ll hear about it in the morning. ‘Then don’t look for me for a while.’

‘I won’t.’ George reassured him. Vane gave him a contemptuous little bow and left the office as silently as he’d appeared, making George’s skin crawl. He hated pirates, and Vane’s very continued existence bothered him enormously. He’d never understood why his father had spared him from the noose, but it was true that he’d been very useful to them. He could always be counted on to do the jobs that his father had wanted to remain strictly off the books and had no moral objection to anything he’d been asked to do. He’d killed and maimed and vandalised, all in the name of their personal vendettas. 

Now he would be after Ross Poldark, and George didn’t fancy his chances.

**********

Ross waited until it was after eleven. They had eaten dinner together and Jud and Prudie had been in fine spirits at their good fortune. 

He had waited for them to go to bed, well lubricated with brandy and with Jud making amorous overtures that made Ross smile to see the old man behaving like a young buck.  
Now he was ready to go, slipping out the front door and going down the docks to wait as agreed. 

Soon enough his ears caught the sound of a boat moving almost silently over the water. He couldn’t make out anything in the thick fog, but soon enough he heard the sound of the boat hitting the pylons and walked to the end of the jetty. It was a rowboat manned by three of Silver’s crew and with Jim standing in the bow. He was dressed for their little performance, black frock coat and tall hat such as the funeral attendants wore. They would be greeted by others on the opposite side of the bank with wagons and horses made up to look like a funeral cortege, but with cleverly concealed bottoms to carry the kegs of powder to the ship. Each cart would take ten kegs, with each keg containing 50 pounds of powder. They would be wedged in, resting in wooden cradles to prevent the powder from being badly jolted and so exploding accidentally.

‘Good evening, Mr Poldark.’ Jim’s voice was warm with humour. ‘Are you ready for our little charade?’

Ross chuckled as he climbed down into the boat and took his seat alongside him. 

‘The others?’ he asked and Jim nodded to the other bank where lights were just visible in the fog. 

‘On their way.’ he replied. ‘They shall be waiting for us when we arrive.’ 

They sat in silence, the only sound that of the oars dipping in and out of the water. As they neared the bank, Ross could make out vague figures of horses and carts and men waiting for them. 

The boat hit ground and Jim got up and jumped out, water splashing up around his boots. Ross followed and they got to the carts. Flint was there with seven other men including Billy and Ben and someone else Ross was rather surprised to see. He gave Flint a questioning look and Flint shrugged. 

‘She insisted.’ he said by way of explanation. 

Ross gave Demelza an unimpressed look. 

‘What?’ She pouted. ‘I can pass for a boy.’

Ross looked at Jim and got a grin. 

‘We’d best be off.’ he said. ‘Come on Dem. You can ride with us.’ 

Flint handed Ross his coat and hat and Ross changed, taking the black scarf from the pocket of the coat and tying it around his neck and then pulling it up over the lower half of his face as the others had done. They had everything prepared, even the official notices of cholera that they would affix to the coffins. He got up and took up the reins while Jim lifted Demelza up so she could sit between them and then got up himself. 

They started off, the cortege moving through the dark over rough roads that they would have to take slowly. The landing point was not far from a small hamlet and they rumbled through the houses on either side of the road in silence as they made for the mill. As they got to the end they passed the watch house but thankfully it was a miserable night and no-one was there to challenge them. Flint was at the head of the cortege and he turned the horses off the small road that led out of the hamlet and down towards where it would eventually split and take the left fork to bring them to the mill. 

Demelza was a warm lump between Ross and Jim, and Ross glanced down at her once only to get a mischievous grin. 

‘Can you feel it?’ she whispered and Ross frowned. 

‘What are you talking about?’ he hissed back and Demelza giggled but didn’t answer him and he gave her a stern look and flicked the reins in irritation, only for the cart to jolt as the horses broke into a trot. 

‘Pull them in.’ Jim admonished from his side. ‘You’re making too much noise. This is supposed to be a funeral procession.’

‘Shut up.’ Ross snorted and got them under control and back into a more stately walk. 

Dwight was waiting for them when they arrived. He held up a lantern and watched as the carts came to a stop in a line along the mill road. Jim jumped down and he came to meet him. 

‘All ready and waiting.’ he said. ‘They’ll need to pack them ten to a cart, lying on their sides and well braced so they don’t roll.’

Jim nodded and then looked up at Flint in the cart next to them. 

‘Get them moving.’ He instructed and Flint nodded and got down, walking down the line to tell the others. Jim stood to one side and Flint came to join them, speaking in low voices. Ross sat on the cart with Demelza, watching as the men went into the mill and started coming out with the powder kegs. Jim and Flint moved as one, going to the first cart and removing the false board on the side. Ross got down and did the same, Ben coming with him to show him how to get it open and he peered inside to see where to out the kegs. One of the men came to him and handed the keg over rather gingerly. 

‘Good.’ Dwight was at the head of the cortege, directing. ‘Gently does it, lads. The last thing we need is to wake it up. The powder is done, but it is still volatile and we can ill afford a mistake or careless hand.’

Ross eased the keg in, taking care to make sure it was secure by tying the cloth strap over it to hold the leg in place. Next to him, Ben was doing the same with a great deal more confidence, most likely from handling kegs aboard ship.

It took half two hours to load and secure the sixty kegs, ten to a cart. Once that was done, then it was time for the six coffins. They were weighted stowed on the carts and Dwight moved between the carts to place the notices on the lids and then went to go join Flint on the first cart. Flint gave a low whistle and they moved on, the laden carts now making far slower progress. They were also driving carefully, all of them mindful of Dwight’s stern instruction to jostle the powder as little as possible.

The dim glow of light through the fog alerted them to the fact that they were almost at the village. The watch house came into sight and this time, unfortunately, there were now several figures standing guard. 

‘Blast.’ Jim’s voice was muffled by the cloth around his face. ‘I’d hoped they would all be inside.’

‘Somethings woken them up, it would seem.’ Ross replied and he slowed the cart as the watchmen came into the road and blocked Flint’s cart, one hand held up. Flint pulled his horses to a standstill and they heard the man speaking to him, his voice carrying an arrogant certainty that made Ross clench his teeth.

He felt a small hand creep into his and looked down at Demelza. She was staring ahead and he felt a chill go down his spine. 

‘What is all this?’ the watchman was asking and Dwight got down from his seat, hand outstretched and holding one of the notices. 

‘Cholera.’ He nodded back at the carts. ‘ALl of them.’

‘This late?’ The watchman sounded suspicious and Ross tensed. 

‘We were told to move them as late as we could so as not to alarm the general populace.’ Dwight explained. ‘You understand how something like this could a panic if not handled delicately.’

The watchman snorted and moved to look at the carts.

‘How many?’ he asked and Dwight came with him. 

‘Six.’ he said. ‘A whole family. Very sad.’

‘Open it.’ The watchman was nodding at the nearest coffin. 

‘I don’t think you appreciate the communicability of this disease.’ Dwight protested. ‘I cannot.’

‘We had a rider come through not half an hour ago.’ The watchman was now threatening. ‘Said somethings moving tonight, something we’re to look out for.’

That made Ross’ ears prick up immediately and he looked at Jim, seeing how his eyes were fixed up ahead. 

‘Well, you’ll be sorely disappointed here.’ Dwight’s voice was filled with knowing humour, calculated to put the watchman at ease. ‘And you would really not want to open that lid, I assure you.’

‘I’ll be the judge of that.’ The watchman said and moved to take a step onto the foothold and haul himself up far enough to grab the edge of the coffin lid and push it askew.  
That was when Demelza tightened her grip and Ross felt the most damnable feeling, like his whole arm had been doused in ice water and then set alight. He felt a surge of power unlike anything he’d ever experienced and then flinched as the man in front fell back from the coffin.

‘Gods!’ He sounded horrified. ‘Close it up!’

‘Right away.’ Dwight sounded shocked beyond belief and he did as the watchman requested. 

‘Let them through!’ The watchman was waving his men back. 

‘Dem?’ Jim hissed and Demelza looked up at Ross. He flicked the reins, now full of questions as to what she’d done. 

‘Just go.’ she whispered.

The carts rattled past the guards, now all clustered together and muttering. Ross noticed that a couple of them made the sign of the cross as they passed. They got past the guard house and made their way back through the village. Only once they were past did Ross look at Demelza.

‘What did you do?’ he asked sternly and she smiled. 

‘He shouldn’t have opened the lid.’ she replied, as if that explained everything. ‘I couldn’t do it by myself though, so I borrowed some from you.’

‘Christ.’ Jim muttered next to them. ‘It was bad enough with one.’

‘Borrowed what?’ Ross wasn’t about to let this go. 

‘What we have.’ Demelza explained. ‘We showed him what he needed to see.’

‘Jesus.’ Ross was amazed. ‘How do you know how to do that?’

‘I’ve always been able to.’ Demelza replied and then yawned expansively and snuggled into Ross’ side. ‘It’s why my papa told me to come with you tonight. You needed me.’ She sighed. ‘But it makes me frightfully tired.’

Ross looked at Jim over her head and Jim shrugged. 

By the time they got back to the river bank, Demelza was asleep between them. Ross pulled the horses up and watched as Jim got down and gathered her into his arms, carrying her down to one fo the waiting boats. He laid her down and she didn’t stir at all. Jim came back and Ross got down so they could start unloading the powder.

‘She’s always been able to sleep in boats.’ he said fondly, then gave Ross a curious look. ‘What did she mean?’

‘I’m not sure.’ Ross left him to unload with some of the men from the boats and went to where Dwight was standing. He saw that the chemist looked thoroughly disconcerted. 

‘I fear I have inhaled too many chemicals.’ he said when Ross got to him. ‘I could have sworn there was a corpse in that coffin he opened.’ His eyes when he looked at Ross were searching. 

‘A trick of the light perhaps.’ Ross replied, but he could see that Dwight was not convinced. He went back to helping load the kegs and soon all of them were in the boats, ten apiece. Six men were left behind to return the horses and carts to wherever they had been borrowed from – Ross hadn’t asked and Jim hadn’t volunteered the information – and the rest of them spaced themselves out between the boats. 

Ross got into the one with Demelza and Jim, sitting down and gathering the sleeping girl against him. She made a soft noise and settled in, her head on his lap, and Ross had to resist the inexplicable urge to stroke her hair. He looked up and saw a grin on Jim’s face.

‘It’s nothing.’ he muttered and Jim chuckled and looked out over the dark waters. 

‘She does it to you.’ he said. ‘Gets into your heart and before you know it, you’re done for.’ He looked back and now his face was thoughtful. ‘Just like you.’ 

Ross snorted, but he didn’t try to dislodge Demelza from his lap. She was far more than he’d been at that age. If he’d had her confidence in her power, her strength then he might have been an altogether different man. 

‘Bloody hellfire!’ one of the men rowing pointed. ‘Look there.’

There was a glow on the edge of the river, the fog turned a dull orange by something that could only be fire. Ross felt a twist in his gut as he charted the position of the bank in relation to themselves. 

‘Jim…’ He looked back.

‘Here!’ Jim was already calling the other boats to them. Three came in close and he spoke to the man in the bow of each one, his voice filled with an authority that Ross had never heard before. ‘I want these kegs across, now!’ He took Demelza from Ross and passed her across. ‘Make sure Demelza gets back safe. Any man that doesn’t see to that will lose his head and no mistake!’ 

Once the kegs had been handed over, he turned back to the men in their boat. 

‘Put your backs into it, boys.’ His order prompted a swift reaction, the six men now rowing as if their lives depended on it. 

Ross moved to the bow, watching as they drew closer and closer, his anger mounting. He knew what it was, knew it as surely as if he could see it happening in front of his face. 

‘It’s Nampara.’ he said.

‘Warleggan? It must be.’ Jim’s voice was cold. ‘That bastard couldn’t leave well enough alone, could he?’

‘No.’ Ross clenched his fists. ‘He couldn’t.’ He took a deep breath to steady himself. ‘I only hope they got out.’

‘I’m sure they did.’ Jim replied, one hand on Ross’ shoulder. ‘Jud doesn’t strike me as the type to be caught napping.’

Ross thought of the brandy they had drunk and wasn’t so sure. 

‘They were after me.’ He looked at Jim. ‘They probably thought I was there.’

‘More than likely.’ Jim agreed. 

The boat drew in and they could hear the shouts of men, the whinnying of a horse. There had been a bucket line, but as they came to the end of the wharf, Ross could see how high the flames were and knew the blaze was well out of anyone’s control. He barely waited until they were close enough for him to leap out of the boat and run down the dock, his long legs making short work of the distance.

He got to the road that ran in front of the house and stopped dead, taking in the sight of Nampara burning to the ground. The fire had gutted the top level, the roof having long since fallen in. He shoved his way through the crowd of onlookers and saw that there was a fire cart and men keeping the blaze from spreading to the adjacent building as best they could. 

‘Ross!’ Jim was now alongside him. He nodded in front of them and Ross felt his heart give a little thump as he saw Jud and Prudie standing together, arms around each other and their faces sooty. Black Dog was glued to Jud’s side, a piece of rope around her neck to stop her from running off.

They saw him striding across to them and Jud’s face was a picture of astonishment and desperate relief.

‘Thank God, boy.’ He let go of Prudie and handed the rope to her before he came to throw both arms around Ross. ‘We thought you were still in there.’

‘What happened?’ Ross asked, still staring at the house. 

‘We don’t bloody know!’ Jud spat. ‘One minute we were sleeping and the next thing Black Dog’s barking her ‘ead off and we wake up and smell smoke.’ He huffed. ‘We barely had time to get out ourselves and then I saw you hadn’t come out and wanted to go back in but those bastards wouldn’t let me.’ This last was said with a glare in the direction of the firemen. ‘The horses got out all right. That bloody bitch of yours kicked a hole in the stable door and ran down the street before someone caught ‘er. They’re at the ostler’s.’

‘We were sure you were still asleep upstairs.’ Prudie added. She nodded down at her feet where there was a carpet bag lying. ‘That’s all we saved.’ Her face crumpled. ‘We couldn’t bring none of your things.’

‘That is inconsequential.’ Ross said. ‘I took everything I valued.’ He put his hands on his hips. ‘You two are my immediate concern.’

‘They can stay on the ship tonight.’ Jim said. ‘There’s more than enough room for them.’

‘All right.’ Ross nodded. ‘Then they come with us.’ He scanned the crowd. ‘I don’t much fancy your chances if you two stay here.’

Jud picked up the bag, one arm still around Prudie. Ross led them out of the crowd and back down to where the boat was waiting. They loaded Jud and Prudie in and jumped down after them. 

‘Tomorrow we hall go to Trelawney’s.’ Ross said. ‘He holds the insurance on the house.’

Jud nodded and pulled Prudie close.

‘Just glad we’re alive.’ he muttered, then gave Ross a look as if he was just then putting two and two together. ‘Hang about. Where the devil have you been?’

‘Best not to ask.’ Ross replied and glanced at Jim.


	30. The New World

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The concluding chapter of this epic tale XD but thankfully not the final part.

George woke with the feeling that he was being watched. He opened his eyes and had to stifle a cry of alarm when he saw Vane sitting in the chair in the corner of his room. He sat up abruptly and Vane smiled, his lip curling.

‘You need to be more wary, Mr Warleggan.’ He gave George an amused look. ‘It is done.’

‘All of it?’ George asked.

‘The house and the offices.’ Vane replied. ‘Not the ship.’

‘Why the bloody hell not?’ George bristled. ‘You were told all three.’

‘I went to the ship.’ Vane replied, casually inspecting his fingernails. ‘What I saw made me reconsider my task.’

‘Why?’ George was now more than a little put out. ‘You could not get aboard?’

‘Not with the men they have.’ Vane said. ‘Are you aware just who Ross Poldark has recruited?’

‘No.’ George snapped. ‘Should I be?’

‘The Company has had more than one run in with the man they call her captain.’ Vane explained. ‘His name is John Silver. When I knew him he was called Long John and he ran a ship that pirated the coast of Africa and the Caribbean.’ His eyes glittered. ‘The man you know as Jim Hawkins is his adopted son. He used to go by James Silver, but has obviously reverted to his birth name to avoid detection whilst in London.’

‘Pirates?’ George was astounded. ‘Here in the city?’

‘Have you never heard of hiding in plain sight?’ Vane chuckled. ‘Your father ran a cruel campaign. When the Hispaniola was captured, all her hands were hanged. However, it seems a few managed to make their escape, the Silvers among them. There are a few more as well. The whole ship is a bounty of wanted men. I’ll wager that once you make the Company aware of this, you’ll get your orders to bring them in.’ His gold tooth glimmered as he smiled. ‘And you know the penalty for piracy.’

‘I do.’ George was smiling. He got out of bed. ‘Make yourself scarce. I have work to do.’

‘Be sure to take enough men.’ Vane warned. ‘The Silvers are ruthless and shall fight to the death if cornered.’

‘Leave that to me.’ George replied. ‘They shall not escape me and with Poldark now dispatched, the ship will be ours along with the island and the whole bloody thing.’

*********

The ship was awake long before Ross was. He started as a knock came at the door of his cabin and half sat up as Jud came in, a silver tray with his coffee on it balanced in his hands. It looked familiar.

‘Where did you get that?’ he asked and Jud looked immensely pleased with himself.

‘Prudie.’ He grinned. ‘She shoved it in the bloody bag, didn’t she?’

Ross raised an eyebrow at him, only too sure of what would have become of it if he had been caught in the fire. Jud’s face coloured but he said nothing.

‘This ship needs a good pair of hands to serve you.’ he muttered. ‘That person that calls himself a cook hasn’t got the first bloody clue about how to make a decent pot. Or breakfast rolls for that matter.’

‘No. I don’t think there’s much call for that on the high seas.’ Ross chuckled.

‘You need a decent bloody steward.’ Jud grumbled. ‘Which is why me and Prudie ‘ave talked it over and decided to stay on.’

‘Excuse me?’ Ross stopped with a roll in his hands. ‘On the ship?’

‘Are you bleedin’ deaf, boy?’ Jud snorted. ‘You need someone to look after you. Never mind if it’s here or on that bloody island. And Prudie doesn’t want to have to go back to live on her sister’s charity. You know the insurance will take a while, so why not? Christ knows, you’ll need someone to keep ‘ouse for you. I can’t see Jim bloody doing it.’ He gave Ross a crooked smile. ‘He ain’t exactly the domestic type.’

‘No, I suppose not.’ Ross was smiling, unexpectedly touched by Jud’s words. ‘Thank you. I gladly accept.’

‘Good.’ Jud opened the door. ‘But there’s some things we’ll need. I’ve sent Prudie out. Jim gave us some of the money he had over.’

‘I am going to see Trelawney this morning.’ Ross said with his mouth full. ‘He can send the money on.’

‘Righty-ho.’ Jud closed the door behind him and Ross turned his attention to eating and then getting out of his bunk. Jud returned with hot water for him to wash and shave and by the time he came out on deck, Ross was awake and feeling a wonderful sense of anticipation at finally getting to leave England and begin his new adventure.

Jim was on deck, talking to Flint. He saw Ross and came to meet him, his face stern. That immediately put Ross on alert.

‘What is it?’ he asked.

‘Trelawney’s offices were burned down last night.’ Jim replied. ‘Coincidence?’

‘I think not.’ Ross’ good mood evaporated. ‘Is he all right?’

‘Yes.’ Jim assured him. ‘He was the one that sent word.’ He took a letter from his waistcoat and handed it to Ross. ‘But all his records and paperwork was destroyed. So much for your plans for the house.’

‘Blast.’ Ross shook his head. ‘At least they haven’t tried to take the ship.’

‘They wouldn’t.’ Jim snorted. ‘We’d make sure of that.’ He had a dangerous glint in his eye. ‘We lost her once. They would have to kill us to take her again.’

‘Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.’ Ross sighed. ‘What time is the tide?’

‘This evening.’ Jim replied. ‘We need to get the livestock aboard. I should probably also tell you that we’ve had a late addition to the crew.’

‘What kind of late addition?’ Ross asked and Jim grinned.

‘One that has made our chemist very happy.’ He nodded at the aft hatch. ‘She’s below staking out a claim to one of the cabins.’

‘No.’ Ross stopped in his tracks. ‘She decided to take me up on my offer?’

‘She did.’ Jim nodded. ‘This is turning out to be a most unusual voyage. She has, however, provided both Bathsheba and Gunpowder with a good home. Her father’s groom will be going to collect them.’

‘He’ll be sorely disappointed with her temper.’ Ross chuckled. ‘But I am glad to hear it.’

‘Ross.’ Silver’s voice came to them. ‘We are almost ready to depart.’ He had come from the aft deck and when he got to them, Ross saw that he seemed almost carefree, now wearing a light shirt with the sleeves rolled up on his strongly muscled arms and a crimson sash about his waist, the long bladed scimitar he carried hanging at his side. His smile was easy and his black eyes twinkled. ‘Everything is stowed and shipshape. The dealer with the livestock shall be here this morning and then we shall be off.’

‘I can’t believe we’ve pulled this off.’ Jim chuckled. Silver reached out quick as a flash and smacked him up the back of the head, getting an offended expletive laden response.

‘You are not to tempt fate, lad.’ he admonished. ‘Keep your counsel until we are sailing past Dover and then you can be arrogant.’

‘Yes sir.’ Jim sounded chastened and Ross looked from one to the other in fascination at the dynamic he was witnessing.

‘Now go and make yourself useful.’ Silver directed. ‘Ross and I have some things to discuss, master to captain.’

Jim muttered as he walked off and Ross turned to Silver.

‘So much for doing what he wants.’ he observed and Silver chuckled.

‘Superstition, Ross.’ he replied. ‘Jim knows better. Now come, we do in fact have matters to attend to.’ He led him to the bow and they stood and looked out over the river. Silver took out his pipe and packed it, lighting it and then blowing the smoke out in a thin stream. Behind them, the ship continued bustling, although Ross was now sure that half the hands were surreptitiously watching them.

‘We’ll leave on the evening tide.’ Silver said, blowing out a thick stream of smoke. The tobacco he smoked smelled choking and slightly herbal. ‘Whatever other business you may have must be concluded by then. The powder is well stowed below and the final provisions will be aboard by the end of the morning.’ He huffed. ‘I dislike a ship that is left to stand idle but we are at the mercy of the river here.’ He looked at Ross. ‘Your servants I am happy to bring along. But this woman that arrived this morning, she is another story. A presence of a well born woman like that will draw attention.’

‘She comes.’ Ross replied, not giving an inch. ‘That is not up for discussion. We need her to get through the blockade on the other side. She is our way into the New World.’

‘What is she?’ Silver asked. ‘I need to know.’

‘She’s a spy for the Americans.’ Ross replied. ‘Her late fiancé was a man I met in Africa. He gave me her name when he died, told me she would be able to help me in my endeavour.’ He gave Silver a small smile. ‘She’s also recently fallen into bed with my chemist, although I think they are trying to hide that particular fact. I think she’s in love with him.’

‘And I think you’re in love with my son.’ Silver replied. ‘Is that true?’

‘It is.’ Ross answered easily. ‘I have nothing to hide from you, Silver. This is the truth.’

‘Tell me what we are going to.’ Silver turned to him and now his face was serious. ‘This island.’

‘It’s a cursed place.’ Ross replied. ‘The people that held it haven’t lived there for centuries. They told my father that it is the land of the dead and only the dead inhabit it.’

‘In that case it should be perfect.’ Silver narrowed his eyes at him. ‘The man I knew before I was taken, the man who carried the same marks as you. My people called him a sorcerer.’

‘I am no sorcerer.’ Ross chuckled. ‘The man that took me in from the sinking, he had the same marks and the power. He showed me to myself, taught me what I really was. I have done things and seen darkness there in the name of magic that means this place holds no shadows for me. Demelza says that they are waiting for us and I believe her, but it is with anticipation I find myself filled, not fear.’

‘I will not be land bound again.’ Silver replied. ‘Neither will Jim, so out it out of your head if you’re thinking he’ll play wife to you.’

‘I have no need for a wife.’ Ross grinned. ‘I have an admirable pair of servants now to see to my needs and I intend to spend my days out and making something of what’s been left to me, not sitting in front of a fire. I wouldn’t expect anything less from him. When we get to Nampara, you will be free to make your own way. I know about the letter and your crusade and I am happy for you to pursue both.’

‘Good.’ Silver replied. ‘Now I think I have taken up enough of your time. You seem to have another who wishes to speak with you.’ He gave Ross a nod and moved off and Ross turned to see Caroline behind him. She was dressed sensibly in plain clothes, but her regal bearing meant it was clear what she was. Silver was right, she would no doubt draw attention.

‘Good morning.’ She came to the rail and Ross was amused to see how the hands were openly gawking at her.

‘Good morning.’ He inclined his head to her. ‘I am delighted you could join us.’

‘So am i.’ she smiled. ‘The accommodations are not quite what I am used to, but we make do. I am amazed that I even have something resembling my own room.’ He smile was wicked. ‘And I have my little chemist right next door.’

‘Where is Dwight?’ Ross asked.

‘Down below, storing his chemicals.’ Caroline smiled. The last time we were together, he gave me a shopping list.’ She chuckled. ‘There are some very odd things on there but it made him very happy.’

‘And you?’ Ross asked. ‘You have what you need?’

‘I have enough to get me to New York.’ Caroline said. ‘That’s where you’ll be leaving me ashore. You’ll need to find yourself another surgeon at that point as I have every intention of taking Dwight with me. We will join you on the other side.’

‘You intend to travel across the country?’ Ross was astounded.

‘There are people I need to see and things I will need to do.’ Caroline put a hand on his arm. ‘But I will find you when we get to Vancouver. And once that is done, we shall be making our home alongside you. I have instructions.’

‘Of course you do.’ Ross chuckled.

**********

Down below, Dwight hummed to himself as he packed the things Caroline had brought with her in the drawers and lockers of his cabin. Like the others, it was a small space, but he was more than happy to exchange his bunk for a hammock in order to pack more in.

‘You sound happy.’ Jim’s voice made him glance over his shoulder and he grinned.

‘I am.’ he replied, straightening up and stretching the kinks out of his spine. ‘She is a fine woman and I count myself an inordinately happy man because of it.’ He gave Jim a long look. ‘You are too, in spite of that now perpetually murderous look you wear.’ He chuckled. ‘You know you surprised me. I was completely taken in by the effeminate actor disguise.’

Now Jim laughed as well.

‘Why can’t a man be both?’ he asked and walked off, stopping to bark at a few hands that looked too lazy for his liking and Dwight watched how they jumped at his command like frightened rabbits at the sound of a gun.

He finished unpacking and went back out on deck. Ross was at the side talking to Jim and he wandered over.

‘You two look like you’re planning something.’ He remarked and Ross shrugged.

‘I thought I would take one last trip.’ he said. ‘To collect on my investment. I haven’t had the time to do so.’ You’re welcome to come along, if you like.’

‘I should like that very much.’ Dwight placed a hand on each of their shoulders. ‘One last intrepid adventure.’

‘Christ.’ Jim laughed and shook him off. ‘This is going to be an excruciatingly long voyage with your grand pronouncements.’

They took the cart that had been used to haul the saltpetre and goods in the previous weeks, Jim taking the reins and driving them out of the city. The weather was not as bad as it had been, the sun out even though there was little heat in it. Dwight chattered to them both as was his habit, talking about the plans Caroline had laid out when she’d joined the ship that morning.

‘We shall start in New York.’ He explained. ‘Caroline has assured me that we shall have a grand reception. Apparently chemistry is all the rage there. I look forward to seeing what they do on that side.’

Ross and Jim exchanged grins.

‘Enjoy it while you can.’ Ross told him. ‘You’ll be getting saddle sores before long.’

‘I find it quite extraordinary that she wishes to travel by land but she assures me that we have a great many things to do. It seems those she has business with here have instructed her to keep a close eye on you and the island, Ross.’ Dwight chuckled. ‘It seems that island is well placed for intelligence.’

‘It’s well placed for everything.’ Jim remarked. ‘Which makes me worry as to why you, Joshua and Dem all said that it’s cursed.’

‘He never told you of it?’ Ross asked and Jim shook his head.

‘Never.’ He gave Ross a questioning look. ‘Are you going to tell us?’

‘The honest truth is that I do not know.’ Ross replied. ‘I would tell you what I knew if that was anything.’

‘Even with…’ Jim let the words trail off and Ross nodded.

‘Even with that.’ he said. ‘It’s going to be as much of a discovery to me as it is to everyone else.’

They rode into the countryside under Ross’s direction and he stopped them at the edge of a large meadow.

‘Here.’ He got down from the cart and took the spade he’d brought from the back. Dwight was left in care of the cart and Jim grabbed the other one and they walked through the meadow, spades resting on their shoulders.

‘I find it quite amusing.’ he mused as they trod through the dead grass. ‘Pirates are the ones supposed to be digging up treasure.’

‘This isn’t treasure so much as it is blood money.’ Ross countered and Jim grinned.

‘What do you think most treasure is.’ he laughed.

They got just in front of the stand of trees and Ross nodded at a place on the ground.

‘There.’ he instructed and they both started digging.

**********

‘If this is true, then it will be a coup for the Company the likes of which we have not had for some time.’ This was from a fat man at the back called Digby. George disliked him intensely but so far he was being the most outspoken proponent of the request George had made. Since his father’s arrest, he’d discovered that the sway he’d thought he held was minimal at best.

‘Yes, but if not then we risk alienating the man we now wish to do business with.’ another suggested and George was livid.

He’d come to Company House expecting a grand reception when he told them that they had several notorious pirates that were wanted for crimes against the Company within hand’s reach. Instead he’d been openly scoffed at, especially when he refused to reveal the source of his information. It had been maddening. If it had been his father, they would have obeyed without question and he would already be on his way to the ship with enough soldiers to apprehend the whole damn lot of them and throw them all in the tower and hang them at sunrise.

What he’d walked into though was a group of men now backtracking and trying to find a way to do business with Ross Poldark. Even the fact that he’d been responsible for the death of the man who’d they originally had a deal with, as well as putting his father in prison had not been enough to deter them and they were now counselling a negotiation rather than commandeering what they could. If Ross was convicted of colluding with pirates it would put him right back where they had had him before with no prospect of salvation this time. Not only that, but he’d have the whole ship’s crew in irons.

‘I think he may be right.’ Howard was sitting, chin resting on his hand. ‘But we cannot be seen to have a hand in this. Perhaps something should be done.’ He looked at George. ‘We will give you a warrant for the arrest of the men you’ve claimed are on the ship. Take one troop of men. If this turns out to be a wild goose chase and brings the Company into further disrepute then it will be your career as well as your father’s. You will not set foot here again.’ His grey eyes were icy. ‘Are we agreed, Mr Warleggan?’

‘One troop?’ George was appalled. ‘There are close on forty men on that ship, and the men we are after are hardened criminals. You are aware of what Hawkins and Poldark did before.’

‘That was your father hiring men who were not up to the job.’ Howard retorted. ‘These are Company troops.’ He gave George a dismissive wave of his hand. ‘Now get on with it. I am bored of your prattling.’

George gave them all a furious glare, his anger now raging out of control as he took his leave and stormed to the barracks at the back of the building. He had another argument with the sergeant on duty and another hour was wasted in getting the permission for the troops to be released into his command.

By the time they finally left the courtyard, George was incandescent. Now all he wanted was for Ross Poldark and everyone associated with him to dance at the end of a rope.

**********

Jim stared.

He was not immune to the lure of wealth, no pirate was. But seeing just what Ross was taking out of the hole flabbergasted him.

‘The slaver was a wealthy man.’ he remarked and Ross laughed.

‘Up until the point I cut his throat.’ he replied, picking up two of the bags and handed them to Jim. They weighed about three pounds each, full of the uncut stones Ross had been using as currency. He took the other two and they walked back to the cart. Dwight was in the back, hat over his face and snoozing while the horses quietly cropped the grass around them. He lifted it when he heard them coming and sat up.

‘Are you two finished skulking in the bushes?’ he asked.

‘Here.’ Ross tossed the bags he was holding at him and Dwight caught one and got hit in the face with the other, making an outraged noise.

‘Warn a man before assaulting him with precious gems.’ He snorted. Jim laughed and threw his own bags to him and then climbed up and picked up the reins. He shook them and the horses lurched into a trot, and Dwight fell over in the back. His swearing made Ross laugh as well, looking at Jim and smiling at him.

‘Our fearless compatriot.’ He said and Jim raised an eyebrow at him.

‘For a man whose family home had just been burned to the ground, you’re in an awfully good mood.’ he observed.

‘I have my diamonds, a ship, half my island and you.’ Ross replied. ‘Why should I not be happy?’

‘And just who says that you have me?’ Jim countered, eyes sparkling at him.

‘I do.’ Ross leaned in and kissed him and they both heard the intake of breath in the back. They turned and saw Dwight staring at them.

That’s going to take some getting used to.’ he said.

Ross and Jim looked at each other and started laughing again, the sound fading as the cart rattled down the road and back towards the city.

*********

Silver checked the glass and moved to the wheel where Billy and Flint were talking.

‘The tide’s starting to move, gentlemen.’ He said. ‘Look to your posts.’

‘Aye, captain.’ They both replied and moved off to start their preparations. The Hispaniola was now fully set, her supplies all aboard and her men standing at the ready. The only things missing were his first mate, ship’s doctor and the owner of the vessel.

‘Where the bloody hell are they?’ he muttered. ‘They should be back by now.’

‘Maybe they stopped for something.’ Flint replied. ‘They’ll be here.’

The sound of shouts from the docks caught their attention and they peered in the direction of the buildings before going to the rail. A moment later, Israel and Demelza came tearing through the alley leading from the buildings at the rear to the ship. They bolted across the gangplank and onto the ship, coming to stop in front of Silver, panting hard and battling to get their breath back. They had been down on the docks, no doubt mucking around and saying goodbye to the river urchins that Demelza counted as friends.

‘Come now.’ Silver put his hands on his hips. ‘What is all this?’

‘Soldiers.’ Israel gasped. ‘Down on the docks. They are coming to arrest you.’

‘What?’ Silver looked at Flint. ‘Speak sense, boy.’

‘He’s telling the truth.’ Demelza was just as unsettled. ‘We heard them talking. There’s a man called Warleggan with them and he has warrants for you and Jim and Flint and my mother.’ Her face crumpled. ‘They are coming here, to the ship.’

‘God damn them!’ Silver took her by the shoulders. ‘Get below and tell your mother.’ He turned to Flint. ‘I want every man armed. Now!’

‘Aye.’ Flint ran off, giving the call and the hands immediately rallied.

‘Israel, go and get Ben.’ Silver ordered. ‘If they are coming to us, they will need to go through the alleyway. I want it barricaded.’

‘Aye, sir.’ Israel was off before Silver had even finished speaking. He looked for Billy and saw him coming across deck, already carrying his paired pistols in his belt.

‘We’ve been discovered.’ he said.

‘I wonder how.’ Silver’s mind was racing. ‘There’s not many who know we are still alive and fewer who would sell us out to the Company.’

‘What do we do?’ Billy asked.

‘We fight.’ Silver replied. ‘At least until Ross, Jim and Dwight are back and we can leave the dock.’ He watched Ben, Israel and a group of men move to leave the ship and head down to start hauling obstacles into the way of the troops. ‘Get the men up in the rigging. They can shoot from there and hopefully take down as many as they can.’

‘Now that makes me feel right as rain.’ Billy grinned. ‘I haven’t had a decent altercation in an age.’

‘Captain Silver? I believe we are about to be attacked by the East India Company.’ Caroline’s voice made Silver turn. To his complete surprise when he looked at her, she was now wore a leather belt that held two pistols and had a rifle in her hands. Silver registered that it was a Baker and he stared at her in astonishment.

‘I assume you know how to use that?’ he asked.

‘I’m the finest shot in my family, Captain.’ Caroline’s blue eyes were bright with what he recognised as eagerness for battle. ‘I can also reload faster than most of your men can blink. Don’t let my ladylike comportment deceive you.’ She moved to stand next to him. ‘We’ll need to make this decisive. This ship must depart at all costs.’

‘I agree.’ Silver nodded. ‘But we cannot without the others.’

‘They’ll be here.’ she replied. ‘We’ll just have to hold them off until then.’

**********

George moved at the back of the troop.

The men in front were the best he could select, and they moved through the docks quietly and efficiently. Of course, the alleys wand roads were now deserted, everyone that had any sense clearing out when they saw the Company coming.

‘Sir?’ The lieutenant in front turned and beckoned to George. ‘There appears to be some sort of blockade set up.’

He gestured to the end of the alley that led to the ship and George saw that it was barred by barrels and boxes and pieces of timber.

‘Blast!’ He moved past the men to get a better look. ‘Well, don’t just stand there! Get it moved.’

‘Sir.’ The lieutenant looked discomforted. ‘This means that they know we are coming. If we go rushing through, they’ll no doubt shoot us all down.’

‘I want those men!’ George bellowed. ‘This is an order!’

The lieutenant looked at his sergeant behind him and nodded and they ordered the men to start moving down the alley, rifles at the ready. George drew his own pistol and followed on their heels.

***********

Jim knew something was wrong the moment they got to the docks. It was late afternoon, the tide now starting its outward voyage and the place should have been teeming. Instead they saw people peering from behind doors and empty spaces.

He pulled the horses to a stop and got down, taking his axes from their place at his sides.

‘Something is wrong?” Dwight looked alarmed.

‘Very.’ Jim was moving forward, his face intent. Ross looked at Dwight.

‘Don’t let those out of your sight.’ he ordered. ‘Whatever is there, you stay out of trouble and head straight for the ship.’

Dwight nodded, his eyes wide.

Ross drew his knife from its place at his back and under his coat. He followed Jim closely, with Dwight bringing up the rear and clutching the bags of gems.

They got closer to the ship and now they could hear sounds. Jim held up a hand and they all stopped.

‘Someone’s breaking down a barricade.’ Ross hissed and Jim nodded. He gestured in the direction of the ship and Ross huffed.

‘Warleggan?’ Dwight whispered and they both nodded.

‘And the fucking Company.’ Jim hissed back. His smile was wolfish. ‘They’ll have a devil of a time though. Silver’s not to be trifled with.’

***********

The rail was now lined with men, all armed with their own rifles. Ross’ diamonds had bought good weapons and those in line behind them were armed with swords and axes, waiting to take on any that might get through. Others were in the rigging, their own rifles trained on the barricaded entrance as they waited for the troops on the other side to break through.

Silver and Flint stood with Caroline, their own pistols at the ready. Demelza was stowed down below with Israel and Mary and some of the other men, protecting the powder. One unwary shot could set the whole thing off and they were not going to let anyone through.

‘They are almost through.’ This was from Anne. ‘She was in the rigging above them, keeping an eye on the progress of the troops. Like Caroline, she held her own rifle.

‘Steady lads!’ Silver’s authoritative voice drifted across deck. ‘Wait until they come through!’

The wooden boards at the back were stating to splinter as the troops behind them started to come through from the other side.

Anne squinted down the barrel of her rifle. She was a superlative shot and she steadied her breathing as she waited. Finally she was rewarded with the sight of a man almost falling through as the wooden boards gave way and she wasted no time, firing true and watching his head explode in a shower of red even as she reloaded.

***********

The sound of a single shot brought them all up short. Then all hell broke loose, the sound of rifles being fired and the shouts of men filling the air.

Jim broke into a run, Ross right behind him. They got the end of the alley and found a troop of soldiers all packed together at the end, firing out into the light at the ship beyond.

Jim threw himself into the fray, the soldiers at the back turning just in time to be confronted by a blond dervish coming down on them with all the fury he possessed. The first raised his rifle only to have himself gutted by one of Jim’s axes before the other came to rest, wedged halfway in his neck. The soldier behind him fired off a shot but he was off his mark and Ross threw his hunting knife overhand, catching him in the throat. He ducked and grabbed the other man’s dropped rifle and fired as he came up, then used the butt to hit the next one in the face, the sound of his bones breaking lost in the cries that were now coming from the front as Jim waded in, the rifles more or less ineffective against his close quarter fighting.

*******

‘Fire!’ Silver roared the order and the next volley of shots went over the side. There was now a pile of dead troops at the front, but enough had broken through that the dock in front of the ship had become a melee of weapons and men dying on their feet. There were bodies on the deck too, taken by the troop’s rifles.

He fired his pistols over the rail, one after the other, next to him Caroline was crouched down as she reloaded. She’d been as good as she’d claimed and there were at least five with her shots in them and Silver had to admit that he was impressed by her capability. There were other shouts as well, coming from the men behind the barricade and he knew without having to see that Jim had made an appearance.

He dropped down to reload and Flint took his place at the rail firing over his head. Next to him Caroline watched as someone burst through the line, her heart starting to pound as she realised who it was. She lifted her rifle and aimed without thinking, firing at the soldier that was now stepping into Dwight’s way and preparing to shoot him. Her shot caught him in the neck and he toppled over into the water and Dwight managed to make it through to hurtle across the gangplank and onto the ship, almost throwing himself down the fore hatch.

*********

The fight in the alley had been bloody, but they had opened the way for Dwight to get through. There was now only a handful of troops left to fight, the other having made their way through onto the dock.

Jim was nearly at the front when he heard the shout. He turned to see a man standing at the other end a pistol levelled at them. He was splendidly dressed and his face was pale with anger.

‘Poldark!’ he roared and behind him Ross turned just in time to fall back as the shot found its mark.

Jim felt his heart almost stop as he watched Ross clutch at his arm, staggering back under the impact. It was enough to spur him into action and he hurled his right axe at the man, cursing when the man dove out the way, then grabbed Ross and hauled him back up onto his feet.

‘Come on!’ He didn’t stop to wait, dragging Ross over the fallen men until they burst out into the dying light and along the dock.

‘Jim!’ The bellow came from the ship and he looked up to see Silver on his way to the gangplank. He redoubled his efforts, Ross grunting in pain against him as they got to the gangplank. Hands reached for them, taking Ross from his grasp and Jim turned in time to see the man from the alley come to the end of the dock. He desperately wanted to go back and deal with him but the ship was waiting and he could hear Silver shouting orders to the hands. The sails were already unfurling and even as his boots hit the deck, the Hispaniola was starting to move, taking the wind and the tide and pulling away from the dock. The gangplank fell into the water and then they were clear, the man shouting ineffectual curses at them as they sailed away.

Jim left the rail and moved to where the men had laid Ross on the deck. He was shaking, his normally olive skin ashen.

‘Take him below.’ Silver ordered, hand on Jim’s shoulder. ‘Go with him, lad. We have this in hand.’

Jim helped haul Ross back up, throwing his good arm around his neck as he dragged him along and down the fore hatch onto the deck below.

‘Jim!’ Dwight called from the bow. ‘Bring him here!’ he had a sheet of canvas stretched over one of the benches and helped Jim pull Ross onto it. Ross was gritting his teeth, a pained breath escaping from him. The left side of his coat was saturated with blood, and Jim moved in to help them take off his coat. Now he could smell Ross’ blood and see the hole in the cloth of his shirt where the ball had penetrated.

Dwight ripped the fabric in both hands, exposing the hole in Ross’ shoulder where the ball had thankfully just nicked the flesh and taken a chunk out. He looked up as Jud came scurrying over with a kettle of steaming water and gestured to set it down next to him.

‘You’re lucky.’ he admonished. ‘It’s only a scratch.’

Ross started laughing and looked at Jim.

‘He was always a bloody awful shot.’ His smile was a little delirious. ‘You lost one of your axes.’

‘That’s quite all right.’ Jim relied, moving to take his good hand and squeezing it. ‘You can always buy me some new ones.’

That made Ross laugh even harder, and he lay back and growled at Dwight when he applied a steaming hot cloth to the wound.

‘You’re a terrible doctor.’ he accused and Dwight gave him a filthy look.

‘I told you that before.’ he muttered.

‘Ross?’ It was Demelza, and she and Mary were watching with wide eyes.

‘I’m all right.’ Ross assured her but she came over to the table to stand next to Jim.

‘You got shot.’ Mary observed rather dryly.

‘By that bastard, Warleggan.’ Ross muttered.

‘He was behind them.’ Jim spat the words. ‘The coward was hiding.’

‘Well, he’s not going to get another chance.’ Dwight pointed out. ‘We’re away.’

They all looked at each other as the realisation sank in. Jim looked at Ross, their eyes meeting ad holding. Ross smiled and squeezed his hand.

‘We did it.’ His eyes were shining. Jim looked at him and fell in love all over again. He moved closer, resting his forehead against Ross’.

‘Yes we did.’ he replied.

**********

_Seven days later._

The ceremony was short and conducted in the local parish church with few guests.

George stood and held his new wife’s hand and accepted the congratulations offered. Next to him, Elizabeth was pale and silent, her lovely face set in a neutral expression.

She’d agreed readily enough to marry him, the revelation that the house and everything in it was forfeit to Francis’ debtors making it the only logical course of action. George was still in a rage after having missed his chance at apprehending Ross and his associates but he managed to keep calm enough to say the simple vows.

The reception was held in the front room of his house, the few guests drinking port and engaged in hushed conversation. They would no doubt drift off in due course. Most of his friends and associates from the Company had already abandoned him after his unceremonious dismissal. His father was due to be put on trial in two days and George found himself to be persecuted on pretty much all sides.

Thankfully, his father had been a brilliant man when it came to money and George had quickly decided what his next course of action was to be. He had little experience in these matters, but he now had a captain that he knew was more than capable of getting him to where he needed to be.

Elizabeth had not been pleased when he’d told her, but now he no longer gave any thought to what she wanted. His only thought was for the deep seated need that gripped him, the drive to get revenge on Ross Poldark if it took every penny he had and cost him even his last breath.

Now he’d made plans. There was an auction in four days and there he’d find himself a ship. Vane was already working on getting him a crew and soon they would be off in hot pursuit of the Hispaniola and the men that had made his life such a trial.

**********

Ross woke up to the sound of men singing up on deck. The air in his cabin was fresh, the light winds that were speeding them across the Atlantic making the time he was forced to be abed more bearable.

He tested his arm and found the pain lessened from the day before, a good sign. Dwight’s concoction had done its work once more and he was healing well.

He got up and dressed, no longer needing assistance. When he came out on deck, the sun was bright and there were seabirds wheeling overhead, their cries accompanying the men’s song.

He spotted a familiar figure at the bow and walked across the deck, nodding at the gestures of subordination from the hands. They had lost twelve of their original number, their bodies committed to the deep, but it was still enough to crew the ship to their destination.

He glanced back once, seeing that Silver was at the wheel, Flint and Billy on the poop deck with him. Silver smiled and raised a hand in greeting. Ross returned it and continued his journey to his objective.

He stopped just short of the bow and stared at the man standing there. Today Jim’s curls were loose, held back from his face by a strip of blue cloth tied across his forehead. His shirt was open at the neck and he was standing and staring at the water, the sun catching the silver hoops in his ears and making his blue-green eyes luminous when he turned to look at Ross. His smile was bright, bringing out his dimples and Ross simply looked at him, his heart full of so much feeling it felt like it would overflow and drown him.

He walked over, not caring who was watching, taking Jim’s face in his hands and kissing him full on the mouth. When he let him go, Jim’s eyes were warm.

‘Good morning, Mr Poldark.’ He smiled again and Ross’ pulse jumped.

‘Good morning, Mr Hawkins.’ he replied and kissed him.


End file.
